^LIBRARY     ^ 

UNIVERSITY  O^ 

CALIFORNIA 

»  SAN  DIEeO        J 


f?? 


Printing  in  Relation 
to  Graphic  Art 


The  Imperial  Press 


Printing  in  Relation 
to  Graphic  Art 

By  George  French 


oh> 


Cleveland 

The  Imperial  Press 

1903 


Copyright,  1903,  by  George  French 

4-0  ^4- 7  r^ 


Contents 


PAGB 


Prefatory  Note vii 

Introduction         i 

Chapter  i 
Art  in  Printing  1 1 

Chapter  ii 
Pictorial  Composition 23 

Chapter  hi 
Type  Composition 31 

Chapter  iv 
Proportion  and  the  Format     ....     41 

Chapter  v 
Color 51 

Chapter  vi 
Tone 62 

Chapter  vii 
Light  and  Shade 71 

Chapter  viii 
Values         77 

Chapter  ix 
Paper  83 

Chapter  x 
Style 93 

Chapter  xi 
The  Binding         105 

Chapter  xii 
Specifications 115 


Prefatory  Note 

It  is  not  the  purpose  of  this  book  to  try  to 
establish  a  claim  for  printing  that  it  is  an  art. 
It  is  hoped  that  it  may  show  that  the  princi- 
ples of  art  may  be  applied  to  printing,  and  that 
such  application  may  lead  to  improvement  in 
some  essentials  of  printing. 

Thanks  are  due  to  several  experts  in  print- 
ing who  have  read  the  proofs,  and  have  given 
wise  and  acceptable  counsel. 

I  desire  to  acknowledge  that  aid  has  been 
freely  sought  from  books  upon  art,  and  that  in 
some  instances  forms  of  expression  have  been 
adopted  from  them.  No  originality  is  claimed 
for  the  allusions  to  art,  nor  for  art  terms  and 
formulas  employed. 

September,  1903. 


Introduction 


Introduction 

tECAUSE  it  is  difficult  to  per- 
fectly transfer  a  thought  from 
one  mind  to  another  it  is  essen- 
tial that  the  principal  medium 
through  which suchtransference 
is  accomplished  may  be  as  perfect  as  it  is  poss- 
ible to  make  it. 

It  is  not  wholly  by  means  of  the  literal  sig- 
nificance of  certain  forms  of  words  that  ideas 
are  given  currency,  whether  the  words  are 
spoken  or  printed.  In  speaking  it  is  easy  to 
convey  an  impression  opposed  to  the  literal 
meaning  of  the  words  employed,  by  the  tone, 
the  expression,  the  emphasis.  It  is  so  also  with 
printed  matter.  The  thought  or  idea  to  be  com- 
municated acquires  or  loses  force,  directness, 
clearness,  lucidity,  beauty,  in  proportion  to  the 
fitness  of  the  typography  employed  as  a  me- 
dium. 

It  is  not  primarily  a  question  of  beauty  of 
form  that  is  essential  in  printing,  but  of  the 
appropriateness  of  form.  Beauty  for  itself  alone 
is,  in  printing,  but  an  accessory  quality,  to  be 

[3  ] 


considered  as  an  aid  to  the  force  and  clarity  of 
the  substance  of  the  printed  matter. 

An  object  of  art  illustrating  forms  and  ex- 
pressions of  beauty  subtly  suggests  esthetic  or 
sensuous  emotions,  which  play  upon  the  differ- 
ing consciousnesses  of  beholders  as  their  ca- 
pacities and  natures  enable  them  to  appreciate 
it.  The  impulse  received  from  the  art  object  is 
individually  interpreted  and  appropriated,  and 
its  value  to  the  individual  is  determined  by  each 
recipient,  in  accord  with  his  nature,  training, 
and  capacity. 

The  motive  of  a  piece  of  printing  is  driven 
into  the  consciousness  of  the  reader  with  brutal 
directness,  and  it  is  one  of  the  offices  of  the 
typographer  to  mitigate  the  severity  of  the  mes- 
sage or  to  give  an  added  grace  to  its  welcome. 

The  book  has  become  such  a  force  as  had 
not  been  dreamed  of  a  generation  ago.  The 
magical  increase  in  the  circulation  of  books,  by 
sale  and  through  libraries,  is  one  of  the  modern 
marvels.  It  is  inevitable  that  the  gentle  and 
elevating  influence  of  good  literature  will  be 
greater  and  broader  in  proportion  to  the  in- 
crease of  the  reading  habit,  for  despite  the  great 
amount  of  triviality  in  literature  the  propor- 
tion of  good  is  larger  than  ever  before,  and  the 
trivial  has  not  as  large  a  proportion  of  absolute 
badness.  The  critical  are  prone  to  underrate 

[4] 


the  influence  of  what  they  esteem  trivial  litera- 
ture upon  the  lives  of  the  people  who  read 
little  else.  It  is  certain  that  there  is  some  good 
in  it,  and  that  it  affects  the  lives  of  those  who 
read  it.  Even  the  most  lawless  of  the  bandits 
of  the  sanguinary  novels  has  a  knightly  strain 
in  his  character,  and  his  high  crimes  and  mis- 
demeanors are  tempered  with  a  certain  imper- 
ative code  of  homely  morality  and  chivalry. 
The  spectacular  crimes  are  recognized  by  the 
majority  of  readers  as  the  stage  setting  for  the 
tale — the  tabasco  sauce  for  the  literary  pabu- 
lum. They  are  not  considered  to  be  essential 
traits  of  admirable  character.  The  cure  for  the 
distemper  it  is  supposed  to  excite  resides  in  the 
sensational  literature  of  the  day  ;  it  is  as  likely 
to  lead  to  better  things,  it  may  be,  as  it  is  likely 
to  deprave. 

The  cultivating  power  of  any  book  is  en- 
hanced if  it  is  itself  an  object  of  art.  If  it  is  made 
in  accord  with  the  principles  of  art,  as  they  are 
applicable  to  printing  and  binding,  it  will  have 
a  certain  refining  influence,  independent  of  its 
literary  tendency. 

If  we  are  to  subscribe  to  the  best  definition 
of  esthetics,  we  are  bound  to  recognize  in  the 
physical  character  of  the  books  that  are  read 
by  masses  of  people  a  powerful  element  for  ar- 
tistic education,  and  one  lending  itself  to  the 

[5] 


educational  propaganda  with  ready  acquies- 
cence and  inviting  eagerness. 

The  business  and  the  mechanics  of  printing 
have  attained  a  high  degree  of  perfection.  The 
attention  bestowed  upon  the  machinery  of 
business,  the  perfection  of  systems  and  meth- 
ods, has  brought  commercial  and  mechanical 
processes  to  a  degree  of  perfection  and  finish 
that  leaves  slight  prospect  of  further  improve- 
ment, more  illuminating  systems,  or  more  exact 
methods.  The  business  of  printing  is  conduct- 
ed in  a  manner  undreamt  of  by  the  men  who 
were  most  consequential  a  generation  ago.  Only 
a  few  years  have  passed  since  the  methods  that 
now  control  in  the  counting-rooms  of  the  larg- 
er printshops  were  unknown.  Now  all  is  sys- 
tem; knowledge,  by  the  grace  of  formulas  and 
figures. 

A  like  condition  prevails  in  the  work  rooms : 
in  the  composing-room  and  the  pressroom. 
The  processes  incident  to  printing  have  been 
improved,  in  a  mechanical  way,  until  little  is 
left  for  hope  to  feed  upon.  The  trade  of  the 
printer  has  been  broken  into  specialized  units. 
The  "all  'round"  printer  is  no  more.  In  his 
place  there  is  the  hand  compositor,  the  "  ad  " 
compositor,  the  job  compositor,  the  machine 
operator,  the  make-up  man,  the  pressman,  the 
press  feeder,  etc.,  each  a  proficient  specialist 

[6] 


but  neither  one  a  printer.  To  further  mechani- 
calize  the  working  printers, the  planning  of  the 
work,  has  been  largely  taken  into  the  count- 
ing-room, or  is  done  in  detail  at  the  foreman's 
desk.  So  every  influence  has  been  at  work  to 
limit  the  versatility  and  kill  the  originalitv  of 
the  man  at  the  case.  The  compensatory  reflec- 
tion is  the  probability  that  the  assembly  of 
results  accomplished  by  expert  units  may  be  a 
whole  of  a  higher  grade  of  excellence. 

The  process  of  specialized  improvement  has 
been  carried  through  all  the  mechanical  depart- 
ments, and  has  had  its  way  with  every  machine 
and  implement,  revolutionizing  them  and  their 
manipulation  also.  The  time  is  ripe  for  a  new 
motive  of  improvement  and  advance  to  become 
operative.  The  mechanical  evolution  may  well 
stay  its  course.  It  has  far  outstripped  the  ar- 
tistic and  the  intellectual  motives.  It  is  quite 
time  to  return  to  them  and  bring  them  up  to 
the  point  reached  by  the  mechanics  of  the  craft, 
if  it  be  found  not  possible  to  put  them  as  far 
in  advance  as  their  relative  importance  seems 
to  demand. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  conclude  that  certain 
principles  of  art  have  been  influential  in  print- 
ing since  the  craft  was  inaugurated  by  Guten- 
berg and  Fust  and  their  contemporaries,  but 
it  appears  that  the  relation  between  printing 

[  7] 


and  the  graphic  arts  has  not  yet  been  fully  and 
consciously  acknowledged.  Some  of  the  older 
rules  and  principles  of  printing  are  in  perfect 
harmony  with  the  principles  and  rules  of  art, 
and  undoubtedly  had  their  origin  in  the  same 
necessity  for  harmony  that  lies  in  human  na- 
ture and  that  was  the  seed  of  art  principles. 

Printing  touches  life  upon  so  many  of  its  fac- 
ets, and  is  such  a  constant  constituent  of  it,  that 
it  requires  no  special  plea  to  raise  it  to  the 
plane  of  one  of  the  absolute  forces  of  culture 
and  one  of  the  most  important  elements  of 
progress.  This  postulate  admitted,  and  the  plea 
for  the  fuller  recognition  of  the  control  of  art 
principles  in  printing  needs  to  be  pressed  only 
to  the  point  of  full  recognition,  and  it  requires 
no  stretch  of  indulgent  imagination  to  find 
printing  successfully  asserting  a  claim  to  berec- 
ognized  as  an  art.  It  is  manifest  that  printing 
is  not  an  art  in  the  sense  that  painting  is  an  art. 
Painting  has  no  utilitarian  side.  It  is,  with  it, 
art  or  nothing.  Printing  is  99-1  oothsutilitarian. 
It  is  essentially  a  craft.  If  there  is  a  possibility 
latent  in  it  of  development  of  true  art  through 
refinement  and  reform  in  its  processes,  and 
the  application  of  art  principles,  to  the  end 
that  the  possibility  of  the  production  of  occa- 
sional pieces  that  can  demonstrate  a  claim  to 
be  art  be  admitted,  it  is  all  that  can  be  hoped. 
[8  ] 


This  is  claiming  for  printing  only  that  which 
is  conceded  to  the  other  crafts.  There  is  no 
claim  put  forward  for  silversmiths  that  their 
work  is  all  artistic  ;  the  chief  part  of  it  is  very 
manifestly  craftsmanship,  yet  examples  that 
are  true  art  constantly  appear.  The  same  is 
true  of  wood  carving,  of  repousse  work  in  met- 
als, and  of  many  crafts.  It  may  be  true  of  print- 
ing, and  will  be  when  printers  themselves  be- 
come qualified  to  view  their  craftsmanship  from 
the  point  of  view  of  the  artist,  and  feel  for  it 
that  devotion  which  is  always  the  recognizable 
controlling  motive  of  artists  in  other  graphic 
arts,  and  in  those  crafts  that  verge  upon  the 
graphic  arts. 


[9] 


Art  in  Printing 


Art  in  Printing 

HERE  is  this  vital  difference 
between  other  objects  of  art 
and  printing  :  That  our  asso- 
ciation with  them  is  purely 
voluntary,  and  that  printing 
forces  itself  upon  us  at  all  times  and  in  every 
relation  of  life.  It  is  impossible  for  a  person  of 
intelligence  to  remove  himself  from  the  influ- 
ence of  printing.  It  confronts  him  at  every 
turn,  and  in  every  relation  of  life  it  plays  an 
important  and  insistent  part. 

Such  examples  of  art  as  a  painting  or  a  piece 
of  statuary  exert  a  certain  influence  upon  a 
restricted  number  of  persons ;  and  it  is  at  all 
times  optional  with  all  persons  whether  they 
submit  themselves  to  the  influence  of  such  art 
objects.  We  are  able  to  evade  the  influence  of 
other  forms  of  art,  but  we  are  not  able  to  ward 
off  printing.  To  it  we  must  submit.  It  is  con- 
stantly before  our  eyes ;  it  is  forever  exerting 
its  power  upon  our  consciousness.  It  is  quite 
possible  that  we  may  not  at  present  be  able 
to  refer  any  quality  of  mind,  or  any  degree  of 

[  u] 


cultivation,  directly  to  printing,  in  any  form  it 
may  have  been  presented  to  us  ;  but  it  is  easily 
conceivable  that  printing  has  a  certain  influence 
upon  our  esthetic  life  which  has  been  so  con- 
stant and  so  habitual  as  to  have  escaped  definite 
recognition. 

If  we  engage  our  minds  in  some  attempt  to 
realize  the  quality  and  extent  of  pleasure  and 
profit  derivable  from  the  constant  influence  of 
printing  that  conforms  to  artistic  principles,  we 
may  perceive  that  it  may  be  a  most  powerful 
and  effectual  agency  for  culture.  It  is  under- 
stood that  it  is  the  gentle  but  constant  influ- 
ence that  moulds  our  habits  and  lives  the  more 
readily  and  lastingly.  If  therefore  it  is  possible 
for  us  to  conceive  that  the  printed  page  of  a 
book  may  illustrate  and  enforce  several  of  the 
more  elemental  and  important  principles  un- 
derlying graphic  art,  we  may  thereby  realize 
that  printing  may  readily  be  employed  in  the 
character  of  a  very  powerful  art  educator,  if  be- 
cause of  certain  inalienable  limitations  it  must 
be  denied  full  recognition  as  a  member  of  the 
sisterhood  of  arts. 

The  book  page  may  be  regarded  as  the  pro- 
toplasm of  all  printing.  If  we  examine  the  re- 
lation of  principles  of  art  to  the  book  page  we 
will  be  able  to  appreciate  the  exact  importance 
of  those  principles  in  the  composition  of  any 

[  H] 


other  form  of  printing,  and  to  so  apply  them 
as  to  secure  results  most  nearly  relating  print- 
ing to  graphic  art. 

It  is  the  chief  characteristic  of  this  uncertain 
dogma  of  art  in  printing  that  its  limitations 
and  variations  defy  the  conventional  forms  of 
expression,  and  almost  require  a  new  vocabu- 
lary of  art  terms.  It  assuredly  requires  a  new 
and  a  different  comprehension  of  the  terms  of 
art,  and  a  distinctly  varied  comprehension  of 
the  word  art  itself  It  has  ever  been  a  stum- 
bling block  to  printers  that  the  word  art  as 
applied  to  their  craft  must  be  given  a  more 
limited  significance  than  is  given  it  in  its  usual 
acceptance.  If  we  can  come  at  some  intelligible 
appreciation  of  what  we  mean  by  art  in  print- 
ing the  way  will  be  opened  for  the  application 
of  that  motive  to  the  work  of  the  presses. 

If  we  recognize  at  once  the  fact  that  we  do 
not  mean  exactly  what  a  painter  means  when 
we  use  the  word  art  with  reference  to  printing, 
we  will  have  taken  the  vital  step  toward  a  com- 
prehensible employment  of  the  term,  as  well 
as  qualified  ourselves  for  an  understanding  of 
the  results  we  desire  to  achieve. 

It  is  essential  that  we  do  not  fall  into  the  er- 
ror of  supposing  that  scientific  accuracy  is  art. 
It  is  destructive  of  art,  and  the  temptation  to 
put  too  much  stress  upon  exactitude  is  a  mis- 

[  -5] 


take  the  printer  must  guard  himself  from  with 
the  most  sedulous  care.  It  is  agreeable  to  rec- 
ognize the  touch  of  the  artist,  in  printing  as 
in  other  arts,  and  scientific  accuracy  is  certain 
to  obliterate  individuality.  It  is  not  the  cold, 
lifeless  abstraction,  the  shining  exemplar  of  all 
the  precepts  and  rules  of  art,  that  we  love  and 
desire,  but  the  human  note  speaking  through 
the  principles  and  rules.  If  the  artist  is  not  the 
dominant  note,  and  the  rules  submerged  by 
the  personality,  there  is  no  value  in  the  object 
of  art.  The  picture  is  interesting  because  the 
artist  expresses  through  it  his  appreciation,  his 
interpretation,  of  a  beautiful  thought  or  a  love- 
ly thing.  This  is  what  puts  the  most  faithful 
photographs  outside  of  the  pale  of  art,  and  com- 
pels the  idealization  of  the  performance  of  the 
camera  before  it  can  be  considered  to  be  ar- 
tistic. The  photograph  is  not,  usually,  true  to 
our  view  of  life.  If  it  is  indeed  true  to  life  it  rep- 
resents a  view  of  life  that  is  quite  strange  to  us, 
and  often  distasteful.  We  are  not  familiar  with 
the  uncouth  animal  the  photograph  shows  us 
the  horse  in  action  to  be,  and  we  will  not  accept 
that  caricature  as  the  real  horse.  The  horse  that 
is  real  to  us  is  the  animal  we  see  with  our  eyes, 
and  the  horse  in  art  must  be  the  animal  we  see 
plus  the  artist's  logical  idealization.  The  facts 
are  the  same  with  regard  to  nearly  all  of  the 
[   '6  ] 


work  of  the  camera,  and  with  regard  to  other 
attempts  at  scientific  accuracy  in  art.  It  is  for- 
eign to  our  experience,  and  does  violence  to 
our  ideals.  We  actually  see  no  such  automa- 
tons as  photography  shows  us  men  in  action  are, 
and  we  can  never  accept  such  disillusionment. 
If  it  is  attempted  in  the  name  of  art  we  will 
turn  upon  art  and  throw  it  out  of  our  lives. 

It  is  the  irredeemable  fault  of  some  proc- 
esses employed  in  printing  that  they  are  too 
scientifically  accurate.  This  is  the  legitimate  ar- 
gument against  the  halftone  plate  as  contrasted 
with  the  line  engraving  or  the  reproductions 
of  pen-and-ink  work,  etc.  The  halftone  is  too 
accurate.  It  brings  us  face  to  face  with  the  stark 
reality,  and  brushes  away  all  the  kindly  ro- 
mance nature  has  made  a  necessary  adjunct  to 
our  powers  of  vision.  Attempts  to  restore  this 
quality  to  halftones  with  the  graver  are  only 
partially  successful,  as  the  defect  is  too  deep 
seated,  too  radically  fundamental.  Some  other 
processes,  other  than  reproductive  processes, 
employed  in  printing  are  exposed  to  this  dan- 
ger of  too  much  scientific  accuracy,  producing 
results  that  have  no  warmth,  no  sympathy,  no 
human  power.  Printing  is  peculiarly  the  victim 
of  this  cold  formality  of  sentiment,  and  must 
be  considered  as  upon  that  plane.  But  this  fact 
makes  the  obligation   to   be   alive  to  every 

[  -7] 


opportunity  to  mitigate  its  severity  the  more 
pressing  upon  every  printer  who  dreams  of  his 
work  as  of  an  art,  and  the  closer  the  sympathy 
between  the  printer  and  the  culture  of  art  the 
more  warmth  and  humanity  he  will  be  able  to 
infuse  into  his  work. 

Some  of  the  principles  of  art  have  a  funda- 
mental relation  to  printing,  while  some  have 
an  influence  upon  it  so  illusive  as  to  defy  defi- 
nition, and  compel  us  to  look  upon  the  con- 
nection as  something  no  more  substantial  than 
feeling.  Indeed,  the  whole  matter  of  the  appli- 
cation of  art  principles  to  printing  may  not 
unfairly  be  considered  to  be  one  of  feeling;  in- 
volving the  saturation  of  the  printer  with  the 
rules  and  tenets  of  art  and  the  adding  thereto 
of  a  fine  discrimination  tempered  by  a  resolute 
Philistinism,  and  then  the  play  of  his  cultivat- 
ed individuality  upon  the  typography. 

Principles  and  rules  of  art  for  the  printer's 
guidance  must  be  more  mobile  than  can  be 
permitted  for  the  guidance  of  the  painter,  the 
draughtsman,  the  engraver,  or  the  sculptor,  be- 
cause the  medium  for  the  expression  of  the 
printer's  conception  is  so  nearly  immobile.  It 
is  the  reverse  of  the  general  conception:  The 
rule  must  adapt  itself  to  the  medium  and  to 
the  circumstances,  at  least  so  far  as  the  measure 
of  its  observance  is  concerned,  if  not  in  some 

[  ■»  ] 


emergencies  where  its  principle  is  also  at  stake. 
It  is  conceivable  in  printing  that  emergencies 
may  occur  making  it  imperative  to  ignore  the 
primary  rules  of  composition,  of  proportion, 
of  balance,  or  of  perspective;  it  may  be  neces- 
sary to  even  do  violence  to  principles  relating 
to  color  or  to  tone.  Such  emergencies  must  be 
exceedingly  rare,  but  that  we  are  forced  to  re- 
gard them  as  possible  emphasizes  the  subtle 
difference  between  art  and  art  in  printing.  There 
can  be  no  good  art  if  the  principles  of  art  are 
violated  in  execution ;  there  may  be  good  print- 
ing if  the  principles  of  art  are  occasionally  mod- 
ified or  even  ignored. 

The  motive  of  printing  is  not  primarily  an 
art  motive.  It  is  a  utilitarian  motive.  In  print- 
ing therefore  art  is  to  be  invoked  for  guidance 
only  so  far  as  it  will  lend  itself  to  the  expres- 
sion of  the  motive.  It  is  never,  in  printing, 
"art  for  art's  sake";  it  is  ever  art  for  printing's 
sake.  We  do  not  print  to  illustrate  art,  nor  to 
produce  objects  of  art.  We  print  to  spread  in- 
telligence—  to  make  knowledge  available  to 
all  who  will  read.  A  painted  picture,  if  of  a  high 
order  of  art,  is  meant  to  appeal  to  a  sentiment 
but  slightly  connected  with  the  "  story  "  of  the 
picture.  The  appreciative  observer  of  a  good 
painting  gives  little  thought  to  the  "story," to 
the  literary  motive,  but  is  absorbed  in  seeking 

[  >9] 


for  the  artistic  motive,  in  order  that  he  may 
yield  himself  to  the  charm  of  the  work  of  art ; 
he  seeks  "  art  for  art's  sake." 

In  printing  it  is  the  "story"  that  is  told; 
it  is  the  literary  motive  that  must  be  consid- 
ered, first  and  most  anxiously.  Nothing  may 
interfere  —  not  even  art.  The  shaft  of  the 
"  story  "  must  go,  swift  and  true,  straight  into 
the  comprehension  of  the  reader.  This  is  the 
constant  anxiety  of  the  printer.  The  literary 
motive  must  not  be  encumbered.  It  must  be 
freed  from  the  mechanics  of  the  printed  page 
absolutely.  This  is  the  printer's  problem.  He 
must  not  seek  to  attract  to  his  mechanics.  It 
is  the  essence  of  his  art  that  he  liberate  ideas 
and  send  them  forth  with  no  ruffled  pinions, 
no  evident  signs  of  the  pent-house  page  from 
which  they  wing  their  way. 

The  printer's  work  and  the  painter's  art  ex- 
actly reverse  their  processes,  as  their  motives 
are  opposed ;  but  they  must  both  work  with  the 
same  tools,  measurably.  Everything  with  the 
painter  is  plastic,  except  his  art.  Everything  is 
immobile  with  the  printer,  except  his  art ;  and 
of  that  he  hopes  to  employ  only  so  much  as 
will  gild  the  prosaic  commercialism  of  the  mo- 
tive he  must  express.  The  chief  principles  and 
tenets  of  art  are  all  applicable  to  the  craft  of 
printing,  in  some  degree.  Drawing,  composi- 

[  20] 


tion,  harmony,  balance,  proportion,  perspec- 
tive, color,  tone,  light-and-shade,  values,  etc., 
are  qualities  of  graphic  art  that  apply  to  print- 
ing with  varying  force,  according  to  the  ex- 
igencies of  each  particular  case  in  hand,  and 
particularly  according  to  the  comprehension 
and  cultivation  of  the  printer.  It  is  always  pos- 
sible to  explain  the  beauty  and  power  of  any 
piece  of  printing  by  reference  to  the  same  prin- 
ciples that  are  responsible  for  the  excellencies 
of  other  works  of  graphic  art.  It  is  therefore 
logical  to  assume  that  those  principles  which 
explain  the  excellencies  of  printing  are  respon- 
sible for  them. 

It  is  evident  that  the  value  of  these  art  qual- 
ities in  printing  must  depend  upon  the  care 
and  intelligence  exercised  in  their  application. 
They  are  refinements  upon  the  usual  and  pri- 
mary practices  of  printing,  and  unless  they  can 
be  employed  with  full  sympathy  and  knowl- 
edge, as  well  as  with  the  artistic  spirit  and  com- 
prehension, they  will  appeal  to  the  printer  in 
vain. 

The  question  with  the  printer  is :  Is  it  worth 
while  to  give  my  work  all  the  beauty  and  dis- 
tinction and  power  possible.''  If  it  is  decided 
that  it  is  profitable  to  execute  work  as  worth- 
ily as  it  is  possible  to  execute  it,  the  printer  will 
not  be  satisfied  if  he  does  not  devote  himself 

[21  ] 


to  a  study  of  this  phase  of  his  craft,  and  a  study 
of  sufficient  breadth  and  thoroughness  to  give 
him  a  reliable  basis  of  knowledge  and  the  re- 
sultant self-confidence.  Having  proceeded  thus 
far  he  will  not  fail  to  apply  all  these  art  tenets 
to  the  full  extent  of  his  knowledge  and  their 
adaptability. 


[ "  ] 


Pictorial    Composition 


Pictorial  Composition 

,HILE  too  much  science  is 
often  deadly  to  art,  the  true 
basis  of  pictorial  composi- 
tion is  rigidly  scientific,  and 
all  of  the  principles  govern- 
ing it  are  of  use  and  importance  to  the  printer, 
especially  in  planning  displayed  work  and  in 
title  pages. 

Composition  is  that  quality  which  gives  a 
picture  coherence,  "the  mortar  of  the  wall." 
It  was  not  esteemed  of  importance  by  the  old 
masters,  and  many  of  their  works  do  not  show 
that  they  knew  or  cared  for  that  which  distin- 
guishes a  picture  from  a  map,  a  group  photo- 
graph, or  a  scientific  diagram.  It  is  the  absence 
of  composition,  balance,  unity,  that  makes  or- 
dinary photographs  something  other  than  true 
works  of  art.  It  is  not  primarily  truth  of  rep- 
resentation that  is  necessary  in  a  work  of  art, 
but  truth  of  idealization;  and  that  quality  is  be- 
yond the  conscious  reach  of  the  camera's  lens. 
It  is  a  redeeming  and  a  justifying  element  add- 
ed by  the  imagination  of  the  artist.  There  may 

[  ^-5  ] 


be  a  picture,  by  a  photographer  or  by  a  painter, 
having  all  the  requisite  component  parts  to 
make  it  a  work  of  art ;  there  may  be,  for  ex- 
ample, a  woman,  an  axe,  a  road,  a  mountain, 
trees;  but  these  thrown  together  upon  a  can- 
vas do  not  make  a  work  of  art  unless  they  are 
properly  composed,  even  if  they  are  arranged 
in  an  order  satisfying  to  the  realist,  and  each 
faultlessly  executed.  It  is  not  the  same  thing 
to  paint  and  to  make  pictures;  to  print  and  to 
execute  artistic  printing. 

The  application  of  the  rules  of  composition 
to  pieces  of  printing  made  up  in  a  whole  or  in 
part  of  "display"  types  is  obviously  essential 
to  their  beauty.  It  is  the  touch  of  beauty  given 
to  science  that  produces  art.  In  printing  the 
matter  of  securing  balance  and  unity  is  at  once 
more  simple  and  more  difficult  than  in  paint- 
ing. The  component  parts  to  be  dealt  with  are 
more  rigid  and  restricted,  but  are  purely  con- 
ventional and  precise.  The  painter's  concep- 
tion is  given  balance  and  unity  through  the 
original  drawing  and  color-scheme  corrected 
and  perfected  by  constant  scrutiny  and  by  tests 
and  continual  alterations.  The  printed  piece 
must  be  balanced  by  a  wise  choice  and  skilful 
arrangement  of  the  types,  and  a  careful  distri- 
bution of  white  space  and  black  ink,  or  color. 
The  actual  center  of  a  canvas  is  the  center 

[  ^-6  ] 


of  attraction  in  a  picture  perfectly  balanced. 
This  does  not  mean  that  an  equal  amount  of 
paint  must  be  spread  upon  every  quarter  of 
the  canvas,  nor  that  objects  of  equal  visual  im- 
portance in  themselves  must  be  equally  distrib- 
uted over  it.  A  tiny  dot  of  distinctive  paint, 
placed  a  certain  distance  from  the  center  of  the 
canvas,  may  perfectly  balance  an  object  ten 
times  its  size  which  is  placed  relatively  nearer 
the  center.  Balance  in  printing  must  not  be  un- 
derstood to  mean  that  there  must  be  an  equal 
distribution  of  weight  over  all  quarters  of  the 
piece,  but  that  there  must  be  a  compensatory 
distribution  of  weight. 

I  n  his  lucid  and  interesting  book  upon  "  Pic- 
torial Composition"  Mr.  H.  R.  Poore  gives 
a  series  of  "  postulates"  which  embody  his  ideas 
upon  the  subject,  and  are  expressed  in  terms 
intelligible  to  the  non-artistic  as  well  as  to  those 
whose  familiarity  with  art  enables  them  to 
grasp  more  technical  phrases.  To  the  printer 
it  is  only  necessary  to  suggest  that  he  inter- 
pret "units"  as  meaning  features  in  his  work 
and  he  will  be  able  to  appreciate  that  these  art 
rules  may  not  infrequently  stand  him  in  good 
stead,  especially  when  he  is  perplexed  with 
some  piece  of  work  that  he  is  having  difficulty 
in  making  "  look  right."  Those  of  Mr.  Poore's 
"postulates"  that  appear  to  apply  easily  to 

[^7] 


printing,  and  may  be  more  profitably  studied 
and  heeded  by  printers  and  others  interested 
in  typography,  are  here  given: 

All  pictures  are  a  collection  of  units. 

Every  unit  has  a  given  value. 

The  value  of  a  unit  depends  on  its  attrac- 
tion ;  of  its  character,  of  its  size,  of  its  place- 
ment. 

A  unit  near  the  edge  has  more  attraction  than 
at  the  center. 

Every  part  of  the  picture  space  has  some  at- 
traction. 

Space  having  no  detail  may  possess  attrac- 
tion by  gradation  and  by  suggestion. 

A  unit  of  attraction  in  an  otherwise  empty 
space  has  more  weight  through  isolation  than 
the  same  when  placed  with  other  units. 

A  unit  in  the  foreground  has  less  weight 
than  one  in  the  distance. 

Two  or  more  associated  units  may  be  reck- 
oned as  one  and  their  united  center  is  the  point 
on  which  they  balance  with  others. 

In  the  application  of  the  rules  of  composi- 
tion to  graphic  art  it  is  possible  to  minutely  sub- 
divide the  topic  and  refer  to  specific  examples 
and  explicit  rules  for  practice.  The  selection  of 
the  particular  kind  of  balance  to  be  sought  de- 
pends upon  the  placement  of  the  important 
item  or  subject,  which  is  in  itself  chiefly  impor- 
tant in  the  scheme  of  balance  as  giving  the  key- 
[  28  ] 


note,  furnishing  the  starting  point.  There  is  the 
balance  of  equal  measures,  which  is  a  picture 
or  piece  of  printing  which  may  be  cut  into  four 
equal  parts,  by  horizontal  and  vertical  lines 
drawn  through  its  center,  with  each  part  show- 
ing equal  weight;  the  balance  of  isolated  meas- 
ures, where  the  chief  item  is  placed  away  from 
the  center  and  has  one  or  more  isolated  spots 
to  compensate,  skilfully  placed ;  the  horizon- 
tal balance;  the  vertical  balance;  the  formal 
balance ;  the  balance  by  opposition  of  light  and 
dark  measures;  balance  by  gradation;  balance 
of  isolation,  and  other  varieties  of  balance  more 
technical  and  more  especially  adapted  to  the 
painter's  uses.  Each  of  these  variants  of  the 
basic  rules  of  composition  may  be  of  special 
value  to  the  printer,  if  he  studies  the  subject 
sufficiently  to  gain  a  clear  comprehension  of 
how  each  applies  in  printing. 

This  is  one  of  the  art  subjects  that  the  prac- 
tical printer  may  deem  of  too  slight  conse- 
quence to  merit  his  careful  attention.  But  if  it  is 
desired  to  produce  printing  of  power — power 
to  pleasurably  attract  the  eye  of  those  persons 
who  possess  either  an  instinctive  or  a  cultivated 
taste  for  art  —  it  is  essential  that  the  work  ad- 
here closely  to  the  rules  governing  pictorial 
composition.  The  eve  is  a  relentless  judge. 
Here,  as  in  all  printing,  the  esthetic  motive 

[  ^9  ] 


is  identical  with  the  business  consideration. 
There  is  a  double  motive  for  the  best  printing, 
the  esthetic  and  the  business  motive,  and  it  is 
impossible  to  separate  them,  or  consider  either 
apart  from  the  other.  It  is  unnecessary  to  at- 
tempt to  evade  the  force  and  meaning  of  the 
new  appreciation  of  the  basis  of  good  printing, 
as  it  leads  so  surely  to  financial  as  well  as  es- 
thetic betterment,  and  should  be  congenial  to 
the  tastes  of  every  printer  who  has  advanced  in 
his  craft  beyond  the  standards  of  the  wood- 
sawyer. 


[30] 


Type  Composition 


Type  Composition 

H  E  composition  of  type  is  the 
first  task  an  apprentice  is  re- 
quired to  undertake  when  he 
goes  to  "  learn  the  trade,"  and 
his  ideas  regarding  its  impor- 
tance rarely  rise  above  the  level  of  the  drudgery 
of  his  early  days  at  the  case.  But  little  of  the 
effort  to  improve  the  quality  of  printing  has  as 
yet  extended  back  to  this  primary  proceeding, 
the  setting  of  the  type,  yet  in  this  fundamental 
operation  lies  the  possibility  for  very  great  im- 
provement and  distinction,  and  for  lamentable 
failure. 

Progress  in  typography  has  been  slower,  and 
it  has  reached  a  less  advanced  position,  than 
have  other  branches  of  the  printing  craft.  Press- 
work  for  example  has  become  so  nearly  perfect 
as  to  leave  little  room  for  the  exercise  of  the 
critic's  art ;  and  the  choice  and  manipulation  of 
paper  leaves  little  hope  for  radical  advance. 
Type  is  set  as  it  was  set  one,  two,  three  gener- 
ations ago,  for  the  most  part.  A  few  printers 
have  given  this  subject  special  study,  and  are 

I  23  ] 


executing  book  pages  that  are  the  wonder  and 
despair  of  the  craft.  Their  distinction  has  been 
rather  easily  won.  It  is  quite  possible  to  detect 
the  source  of  it,  and  not  difficult  to  draw  the 
same  results  from  the  same  fount. 

It  has  become  a  habit  to  accept  the  com- 
posed page  of  type  as  the  foundation  upon 
which  to  erect  a  fine  piece  of  printing.  The 
real  foundation  lies  somewhat  further  back. 
There  can  scarcely  be  distinction  in  a  printed 
piece  unless  its  source  is  in  the  successive  steps 
of  progress  that  antedate  the  composition  of 
the  type.  The  final  artistic  result  must  be  clear- 
ly conceived  in  the  mind  of  the  printer  before 
he  drops  one  type  into  the  stick.  His  scheme 
must  be  fully  developed,  and  it  must  be  con- 
sistent in  all  its  details. 

The  type  for  a  piece  of  printing  should  be 
selected  to  give  adequate  expression  to  the  lit- 
erary motive,  to  properly  emphasize  the  sub- 
ject matter,  with  the  view  to  the  production  of 
a  handsome  and  worthy  piece  of  printing.  To 
secure  this  latter  quality  in  printing  is  the  pri- 
mary object  of  the  typesetter,  and  therein  lies 
the  proof  of  his  skill  and  of  his  taste.  Wheth- 
er the  type  selected  is  the  best  possible  for  a 
given  piece  of  work  may  be  a  debatable  ques- 
tion, but  however  it  succeeds  or  fails  in  this 
particular,  the  printer  may  manipulate  it  in 

[34] 


such  a  manner  as  will  result  in  a  consistent  and 
artistic  example  of  typography.  He  may  use 
the  sizes  which  should  be  in  conjunction;  he 
may  avoid  the  common  anachronism  of  lower- 
case and  capital-letter  lines  in  the  same  piece  ; 
he  may  place  his  white  space  so  that  it  will  not 
only  be  agreeably  proportioned  to  the  black  or 
other  color  of  the  print  but  so  that  it  will  be 
as  important  an  element  of  strength  as  the  ink- 
covered  surface;  he  may  adjust  the  margins. 

These  points  are  all  vital,  but  none  of  them 
more  so  than  the  use  of  lower-case  and  capital- 
letter  lines  in  conjunction.  The  capital  letters 
of  the  ordinary  font  of  type  do  not  lend  them- 
selves gracefully  to  the  making  of  complete 
words.  They  are  not  designed  for  such  work. 
The  lower-case  letters  are  designed  to  stand  to- 
gether, but  it  is  impossible  to  combine  many 
capital  letters  without  making  noticeable  gaps 
and  breaks  and  some  awkward  connections.  But 
the  objection  to  capital-letter  lines  in  conjunc- 
tion with  lower-case  lines  does  not  rest  chiefly 
upon  this  point.  There  are  fonts  of  type  from 
which  capital-letter  lines  scarcely  subject  to  the 
cristicism  suggested  may  be  set.  The  objection 
is  not  urged  against  capital-letter  lines  in  a  pro- 
hibitive sense,  but  because  their  intrusion  in  a 
company  of  lower-case  lines  destroys  harmony. 
A  like  deplorable  effect  is  produced  by  the  use 

[35  ] 


of  inharmonious  series  of  type  for  the  same 
piece  of  typography.  The  war  of  styles  of  type 
is  as  destructive  to  artistic  effect  as  the  poorest 
execution  can  be.  In  the  old  days  the  appren- 
tice was  taught  to  alternate  lower-case  and  cap- 
ital-letter lines  in  job  printing,  and  avoid  using 
two  lines  of  the  same  series  in  conjunction. 

No  one  of  the  small  refinements  which  are 
now  being  applied  to  composition  has  worked 
so  radical  an  improvement  as  the  newer  ideas 
relative  to  spacing,  and  the  perception  that  the 
spacing  between  words,  the  leading  between 
lines,  and  the  degree  of  blackness  of  the  face 
of  the  letter,  must  have  a  balanced  relation. 
This  has  operated  to  abolish  the  conventional 
em  quadrat  after  the  period,  and  to  produce  a 
page  of  type-matter  which  lends  itself  readily 
to  securing  tone  and  optical  comfort. 

The  activity  and  the  fecundity  of  the  type 
founders  in  producing  new  type  faces  has  oper- 
ated, in  the  first  instance,  to  furnish  new  ex- 
cuse for  discord.  Then  a  reaction  began,  and  the 
liberality  of  the  founders  in  making  complete 
lines  and  elaborate  series  of  type  faces  is  sug- 
gesting uniformity  in  scheme  and  supplying 
material  for  consistent  execution.  The  elabo- 
rate specimen  books  are  scarcely  a  temptation 
to  restraint  however,  nor  do  they  tempt  to  clas- 
sicism. Too  much  type  at  the  hand  of  the  printer 

[36] 


is  a  positive  detriment.  Until  quite  recently  a 
very  large  proportion  of  the  new  faces  had  no 
warrant  for  existence.  They  were  abortions, 
based  upon  the  fantastic  ideas  of  designers  who 
exhibited  little  knowledge  of  art  or  of  history. 
The  more  recent  product  of  the  foundries  is 
much  more  creditable,  and  it  appears  that  the 
designing  of  type  has  been  taken  in  hand  by 
artists  of  capacity,  who  are  actuated  by  motives 
worthy  of  their  ambitions  and  guided  by  his- 
torical research  that  is  true  in  aim  if  not  always 
profound. 

The  typographic  tendency  is  distinctly  to- 
ward better  things.  It  lags,  however.  It  is  not 
on  the  level  of  the  other  processes  of  printing. 
We  are  yet  compelled  to  admit  that  presswork 
is  far  ahead  of  composition  in  development,  as 
is  the  facility  for  compounding  and  handling 
inks  and  the  selection  and  the  manipulation 
of  paper. 

In  this  vitally  fundamental  matter  we  have 
made  little  real  progress.  The  disciples  of  bet- 
ter things  are  not  honored  with  a  following. 
They  are  regarded  with  mild  interest  by  a  few 
of  the  more  progressive  ones,  with  distinct  dis- 
approval by  the  many  conservatives,  and  with 
utter  indifference  by  the  mass.  Yet  they  will 
win.  That  there  is  impending  a  considerable  re- 
form in  the  composition  of  type  is  certain,  and 

[37] 


the  reform  will  consist  in  the  general  adoption 
of  the  refinements  now  practiced  by  a  few:  In 
a  closer  study  of  the  matter  of  spacing  and  lead- 
ing, with  a  view  to  bringing  the  tone  of  the 
page  up  to  near  the  artistic  requirements;  in  a 
better  balance  between  body  type  and  chapter 
and  page  headings;  in  a  better,  more  consist- 
ent and  uniform  management  of  the  folio;  in 
order  that  those  features  may  be  actually  the 
guiding  and  subsidiary  features  in  typography 
that  they  assuredly  are  in  the  literary  scheme  of 
the  book. 

The  time  is  coming  when  a  book  page  will 
be  planned  to  harmonize  with  and  express  the 
literary  motive;  to  promote  ease  and  pleasure 
in  reading;  and  to  satisfy  the  innate  sense  of 
artistic  harmony  which  is  felt  and  appreciated 
by  the  cultivated  reader,  even  if,  as  must  often 
be  the  fact,  he  is  quite  unconscious  of  the  ex- 
istence of  such  a  demand. 

It  is  upon  a  basis  somewhat  like  this  that 
books  should  be  planned :  Make  one  page  that 
meets  the  requirements  of  art  and  of  the  liter- 
ary motive,  and  base  the  book  upon  it.  Such  is 
not  the  general  custom.  It  is  more  the  fashion 
to  fix  the  size  of  the  book  and  accommodate  the 
page  to  the  arbitrary  scheme,  forcing  the  type 
and  the  format  to  adequate  proportions.  There 
are  books  that  are  artistically  ruined  by  the  use 

[38  ] 


of  type  of  an  inharmonious  face,  or  that  may 
be  one  size  too  small  or  too  large;  there  are 
many  books  that  are,  typographically,  abor- 
tions, because  of  neglect  to  conform  to  certain 
very  simple  tenets  of  art,  when  they  might  as 
easily  have  been  exemplars  of  artistic  motives 
and  a  comfort  and  delight  to  each  cultivated 
reader. 

It  is  doubtless  because  these  neglected  es- 
sentials are  so  simple  and  so  easily  incorpo- 
rated that  it  is  so  difficult  to  obtain  recognition 
and  currency  for  them.  But  we  may  rejoice  that 
books  are  beginning  to  receive  some  of  this 
kind  of  attention,  even  in  the  big  printing  fac- 
tories, where  books  are  made  very  much  as 
barrels  of  flour  are  turned  out  of  the  great 
northwestern  mills,  or  as  bags  of  grain  are 
discharged  from  the  modern  reapers  marching 
in  clattering  procession  over  the  horizon-wide 
wheat  townships. 


139} 


Proportion  and  the  Format 


Proportion  and  the  Format 

T  I S  a  delicate  and  essential  mat- 
ter to  fix  upon  the  length  of  the 
type  page,  and  a  difficult  ques- 
tion to  fix  the  margins.  There  is 
a  mass  of  literature  bearing  upon 
these  matters,  but  they  cannot  in  every  case  be 
decided  according  to  arbitrary  rules.  It  is  usu- 
ally safe  to  be  guided  by  the  usual  rules  in  pro- 
portioning a  page  of  type,  and  in  placing  the 
page  upon  the  paper.  A  thorough  understand- 
ing of  the  principles  of  art  as  they  may  be 
applied  to  printing  will  suggest  occasional  in- 
fractions of  mechanical  rules  in  the  interests  of 
good  art.  Exactly  what  is  to  be  the  procedure 
in  every  instance  cannot  be  formulated  into 
rules,  but  it  is  always  possible  to  explain  justi- 
fiable infractions  of  rules  by  reference  to  prin- 
ciples of  art.  When  it  is  found  impossible  to 
thus  justify  departures  from  rule,  precedent 
or  convention,  it  is  evident  that  art  would  have 
gained  if  the  rules  had  been  adhered  to. 

The  treatment  of  the  format  of  a  book  has 
become  somewhat  of  a  moot  question,  though 

[43  ] 


it  is  evident  that  the  advocates  of  the  strictly 
conventional  method  are  gradually  drawing 
practical  printers  into  agreement  with  them, 
and  that  their  opponents  rely  upon  the  spirit 
of  philistinism  for  their  chief  justification,  con- 
fining their  arguments  largely  to  contradiction 
unfortified  by  either  logic  or  precedent.  Phi- 
listinism is  not  entirely  evil,  but  the  present  is 
not  a  time  of  such  slavish  conformity  as  to 
clothe  it  with  the  appearance  of  a  virtue.  Pro- 
test is  the  instinctive  spirit  of  today.  In  print- 
ing there  is  too  much  of  it.  We  need  more  con- 
formity, if  conformity  be  interpreted  not  to 
mean  blind  adherence  to  precedent  but  a  large 
and  active  faith  in  the  saving  virtue  of  demon- 
strable principles. 

Proportion,  balance,  in  a  limited  sense  com- 
position as  understood  in  art,  and  optics  must 
be  considered  in  adjusting  the  format  of  abook. 
The  size  and  shape  of  the  book  must  deter- 
mine the  exact  dimensions  of  the  page  and  the 
margins.  The  leafof  the  ordinary  book  which  is 
generally  approved  is  fifty  per  cent  longer  than 
it  is  wide.  This  proportion  is  often  varied,  and 
for  different  reasons,  but  it  may  be  accepted  as 
a  standard. 

The  margins  of  a  correctly  printed  book  are 
not  equal.  The  back  margin  is  the  narrowest, 
the  top  a  little  wider  than  the  back,  the  front 

[44] 


still  wider,  and  the  bottom,  or  tail  margin,  the 
widest  of  all.  Why  this  scheme  for  margins  has 
grown  to  be  authoritative, and  adopted  by  good 
bookmakers,  is  not  entirely  clear.  Nearly  all 
the  literature  upon  the  subject  is  devoted  to  at- 
tempts to  justify  the  custom  instead  of  explain- 
ing its  origin.  The  best  justification  that  can 
now  be  offered  is  the  evident  fact  that  the  cus- 
tom is  agreeable  to  publishers,  to  authors,  and 
to  discriminating  readers. 

It  is  often  alleged  that  there  is  some  law  of 
optics  that  is  in  agreement  with  the  custom, 
but  it  might  be  difficult  to  establish  such  a  claim 
though  it  is  not  necessary  to  attempt  to  refute 
it.  We  are  accustomed  to  this  arrangement  of 
the  margins  in  the  best  books,  and  that  to  which 
we  have  become  accustomed  requires  no  de- 
fense, scarcely  an  explanation.  It  is  certain  that 
the  format  of  a  book  appeals  to  us  as  right  only 
where  this  arrangement  of  unequal  margins 
is  strictly  observed.  It  is  easy  to  imagine  that 
our  eyes  rest  more  contentedly  upon  the  pair 
of  pages  before  them  when  those  pages  incline 
toward  the  top  of  the  leaves  and  toward  each 
other. The  eyeof  thebookishperson  is  undeni- 
ably better  satisfied  if  the  margins  are  propor- 
tioned as  specified.  There  may  be  grounds  for 
doubting  the  claim  that  the  reasons  for  such 
satisfaction  are  optical ;  there  are  some  plausible 

[45] 


arguments  to  support  such  a  contention.  It  is 
a  question  for  oculists. 

The  other  reasons  for  the  evolution  of  the 
book  format  into  its  present  form  are  logical. 
If  they  do  not  lead  to  the  conclusion  that  art 
has  been  served  and  justified  in  full  they  as- 
suredly do  not  lead  to  a  contrary  conclusion. 
The  early  paper  makers  produced  a  sheet  that 
was  uneven  in  shape  and  variable  in  size,  and 
the  pressman  was  compelled  to  make  large  al- 
lowance on  the  front  and  tail  margins.  The 
back  and  top  margins  could  be  reckoned,  as 
when  the  sheet  was  folded  by  the  print  they 
would  be  uniform.  The  front  and  tail  margins 
were  made  wide  enough  to  allow  for  the  un- 
evenness  of  the  paper  and  for  the  trim.  It  was 
inevitable  that  the  allowance  should  be  too 
great,  and  that  to  preserve  the  proper  form  and 
proportion  for  the  book  the  front  and  tail  mar- 
gins should  occasionally  be  left  wider  than  the 
back  and  head  margins.  This,  it  may  be  im- 
agined, did  much  to  fix  the  present  custom. 
The  ancient  handmade  papers  were  thicker 
on  the  fore  edge  of  the  sheet  than  in  the  cen- 
ter, and  as  the  bookbinder  could  not  beat  the 
edges  flat  they  had  to  be  trimmed  oflF. 

In  the  old  days  books  were  taken  more  se- 
riously than  they  now  are,  and  studious  read- 
ers desired  to  annotate  their  copies  of  favorite 

[46] 


books.  The  front  and  tail  margins  were  used 
for  this  purpose,  and  they  were  therefore  given 
their  larger  proportion  of  the  sheet.  In  the  fif- 
teenth century  this  motive  for  wide  margins 
was  recognized  by  all  printers,  and  many  of 
them  went  so  far  as  to  provide  printed  annota- 
tions for  all  four  of  the  margins. 

There  were  other  motives  for  fixing  the 
margins  as  we  have  them.  Whether  the  optical 
and  the  artistic  motives,  purely  as  such,  may 
explain  the  modern  format  more  logically  than 
the  historical  motives  do,  may  be  debatable. 
The  question  is  not  vitally  important.  We  wish 
to  see  the  format  of  our  books  made  as  the 
best  practice  makes  it,  whether  our  taste  is  in- 
herited as  a  habit  or  is  acquired  through  our 
artistic  cultivation. 

Accepting  therefore  the  dictum  as  it  stands, 
without  pressing  an  inquiry  as  to  its  authority 
or  its  legitimacy,  it  remains  something  of  a 
problem  to  fix  the  margins  and  place  the  page 
of  a  book.  When  all  suggestions  and  rules  are 
considered  it  will  be  found  that  it  is  not  often 
that  the  ordinary  book  page  will  submit  grace- 
fully to  variation  of  the  rule  that  the  length  be 
determined  by  cutting  the  page  into  two  tri- 
angles, the  hypotenuse  of  either  of  which  shall 
be  twice  the  width  of  the  page.  The  page-head- 
ing should  be  included  in  this  measurement, 

[47] 


but  if  the  folio  is  placed  at  the  foot,  either  in 
bare  figures  or  enclosed  within  brackets,  it  need 
not  be  included.  This  formula  must  often  be 
disregarded,  especially  when  the  book  is  not  to 
be  proportioned  in  conventional  dimensions. 
No  other  form  is  as  satisfactory  however,  and 
it  is  quite  within  the  bounds  of  the  practice  of 
the  better  bookmakers  to  consider  it  as  the 
approved  conventional  page.  Whenever  it  is 
varied  the  guide  must  be  a  general  sense  of 
appropriateness,  having  consideration  for  all 
the  other  varied  elements. 

There  are  other  rules.  One  that  was  much 
in  vogue  at  one  time,  and  is  esteemed  now  by 
some  good  printers,  makes  the  type  page  one- 
half  more  in  length  than  its  width.  This  rule 
is  restricted  in  its  application.  It  will  not  do 
for  a  quarto  page,  nor  for  a  broad  octavo.  An- 
other rule  provides  that  the  sum  of  the  square 
inches  on  the  back  and  top  margins  shall  be 
one-half  the  sum  of  the  square  inches  on  the 
front  and  tail  margins.  This  is  difficult  to  ap- 
ply in  practice,  for  obvious  reasons,  except  as 
a  test  to  determine  the  correctness  of  margins 
already  fixed. 

The  margins  must  be  adjusted  with  the  in- 
tent to  make  the  two  pages  lying  exposed  to 
view  properly  harmonize  with  the  book  leaf, 
and  adjust  themselves  to  the  tyrannical  optical 

[48  ] 


demands  of  the  eyes  of  the  reader.  This  re- 
quires a  very  strict  and  careful  adherence  to 
rules  well  understood  by  good  printers,  as  well 
as  a  courageous  disregard  of  those  rules  when 
the  exigencies  of  the  case  demand  it.  There  are 
many  other  things  to  consider.  The  general 
character  and  purpose  of  the  book  must  be 
taken  into  account,the  size  of  type,  and  whether 
it  is  to  be  leaded  or  set  solid,  the  quality  and 
weight  of  paper,  etc.  A  bible,  guide  book,  or 
directory,  need  not  have  wide  margins,  nor  a 
book  printed  on  small  typeand  thin  paper;  and 
a  book  the  type  for  which  is  not  leaded  should 
be  given  less  margin  than  is  allowed  for  a  page 
of  leaded  type.  While  the  same  general  scheme 
for  margins  is  applicable  to  nearly  all  good 
books,  of  whatever  shape  and  size,  when  the 
contents  and  object  do  not  dominate  the  physi- 
cal character,  it  is  obvious  that  the  dimensions 
cannot  in  all  cases  be  fixed  according  to  the  same 
formulas.  A  quarto  page  must  have  wider  mar- 
gins than  an  octavo,  but  they  must  bear  a  like 
relative  proportion  to  each  other.  A  quarto 
page  must  be  proportioned  differently  than  an 
octavo ;  it  must  be  shorter  by  about  one-seventh. 
The  width  of  the  margins  must  in  some  de- 
gree depend  upon  the  amount  of  white  in  the 
page  of  type,  upon  the  tone  of  the  type  page. 
This  involves  the  character  of  the  type  face 

[49] 


quite  as  much  as  the  spacing  and  leading  given 
it,  as  some  type  faces  have  such  Hght  lines  as 
to  give  the  page  a  very  light  tone,  even  when 
the  type  is  set  solid  and  the  spacing  is  close, 
other  types  have  such  heavy  lines  as  to  de- 
mand wide  spacing, leading,  and  wide  margins, 
to  bring  the  tone  down  to  a  proper  degree  of 
grayness. 

Consideration  of  all  these  questions  affect- 
ing the  format,  and  especially  the  margins,  of 
a  proposed  book  lead  to  the  conclusion  that  it 
is  good  practice  to  select  the  paper  as  the  first 
step  in  the  planning  of  a  book  that  is  intended 
to  be  made  upon  artistic  lines,  and  upon  this 
foundation  to  build  the  typography  and  the 
binding,  according  to  the  rules  of  harmony  and 
of  proportion. 


[  50] 


Col 


or 


Col 


or 


N  art,  color  is  not  essential  to 
some  forms  and  processes,  as  en- 
graving, etching,  charcoal  work, 
and  the  various  forms  of  crayon 
work;  and  in  printing,  it  is  ab- 
sent from  the  large  percentage  of  work  done 
in  black  and  white. 

This  limitation  of  the  application  of  the 
word  "color"  in  printing  is  quite  arbitrary. 
If  we  speak  in  the  strictest  sense  we  must  con- 
sider that  black  and  white  work  is  color  work. 
White  is  the  concentration  of  all  the  rays  of 
the  solar  spectrum, the  epitome  of  all  colors; 
while  black  is  the  appearance  of  the  substance 
that  most  nearly  rejects  all  reflections  of  the 
spectrum  colors ;  and  black  and  white  are  as 
truly  colors  as  are  red,  violet,  vermilion,  or  any 
of  the  other  brilliant  tints.  Yet  as  it  is  usual 
to  allude  to  black  and  white  as  some  other 
qualities  than  color,  and  as  they  affect  us  so  dif- 
ferently, it  is  deemed  to  be  more  convenient 
to  consider  them  in  relation  to  light  and  shade, 
tone,  and  values,  and  to  confine  the  meaning  of 

[53] 


"color "to  the  tints  shown  by  the  spectrum. 
This  is  not  an  insignificant  distinction  when 
employed  in  relation  to  printing,  as  much  of 
the  beauty  and  power  of  the  plainly  printed 
book  page  is  due  to  the  apportionment  of  black 
and  white — black  type  and  white  paper.  So 
when  we  speak  of  color  in  printing  it  must  be 
understood  that  the  word  is  not  used  in  its 
broadest,  nor  in  its  most  exact,  sense ;  but  in 
an  arbitrarily  restricted  sense,  applying  exactly 
as  it  is  applied  by  printers  in  actual  practice. 

The  printer's  understanding  of  color,  his 
appreciation  of  its  usefulness  and  power,  is  ap- 
proaching toward  the  high  esteem  in  which  it 
is  held  by  the  painter.  He  is  coming  to  know 
that  it  is  a  high  quality  of  his  work,  and  that 
by  it  he  is  able  to  suggest  several  other  qualities 
that  are  vital,  such  as  lights,  shadows,  perspec- 
tives, etc. 

There  are  no  explicit  rules  for  the  guidance 
of  the  printer  in  the  use  of  color.  There  are 
certain  fundamental  principles,  and  many  rules 
deduced  from  them,  a  thorough  acquaintance 
with  which  will  enable  him  to  avoid  serious 
blunders  and  greatly  aid  him  in  the  working  out 
of  a  scheme  ;  but  that  sense  of  rightness  which 
the  successful  artist  or  craftsman  occasionally 
experiences,  cannot  be  won  by  the  mere  follow- 
ing of  the  letter  and  the  spirit  of  rules.  How 

[  54] 


true  this  is  becomes  apparent  when  the  work 
of  the  best  printers  is  examined  with  inteUi- 
gent  care,  and  it  seems  absolute  when  the  mea- 
ger Hst  of  great  painter  colorists  is  reviewed: 
Titian,  Giorgione,  Tintoretto,  Paul  Veronese, 
Rubens,  Velasquez,  Delacroix,  and  a  few  with 
less  claim  to  the  title.  All  that  is  known  about 
color  has  been  absorbed  by  hundreds  of  artists ; 
yet  out  of  a  great  army  of  successful  students 
there  have  come  so  few  good  colorists  that  their 
names  can  be  spoken  in  ten  seconds. 

To  effectively  deal  with  color  a  fair  under- 
standing of  what  science  is  able  to  tell  of  its 
essential  properties  and  powers  is  necessary  as 
a  basis.  To  this  may  be  added  such  of  the  de- 
ductions and  rules  as  have  been  formulated  by 
the  great  painters  and  the  students. 

The  important  starting  point  is  this :  To  re- 
alize that  color  is  not  a  material  existence,  not 
a  substance,  not  a  fixed  fact  equally  appreciable 
by  all  and  equally  demonstrable  to  all.  It  is  a 
sensation;  and  a  sensation  not  of  the  same  force 
or  quality  for  different  individuals.  Of  itself  it 
depends  upon  the  waves  of  the  ether  in  space; 
for  us  it  depends  upon  the  power  and  truth 
of  our  eyes.  One  may  truthfully  see  a  color  that 
is  quite  another  thingto  another  person, if  there 
should  chance  to  be  a  difference  radical  enough 
or  defects  serious  enough  in  the  eyes  of  either. 

[  55] 


The  laws  governing  light  are  of  great  impor- 
tance to  the  colorists.  There  are  subtleties  that 
have  important  practical  application  which 
cannot  be  guessed  otherwise  than  by  direct 
reference  to  science.  In  no  other  way  can  a 
printer  know  for  example  what  colors  are  com- 
plementary or  what  effect  a  certain  color  will 
have  upon  another  when  they  are  used  together. 
There  are  many  curious  facts  about  color 
which  do  not  appear  to  be  regulated  by  laws 
at  all  similar  to  those  we  are  accustomed  to  ap- 
ply in  other  matters;  that  there  is  this  universal 
and  radical  difference  is  of  great  importance  to 
those  who  use  color  in  printing.  It  is  interest- 
ing to  realize  that  color  is  produced  by  light 
wavesjthe  different  colors  by  waves  of  different 
lengths,  or  greater  frequency ;  that  red  appears 
to  the  eye  when  the  light  wave  is  xg^finr  of  an 
inch  in  length,  or  when  the  frequency  of  the 
vibration  is  392  quadrillions  per  second,  by  the 
American  system  of  enumeration.  It  may  be 
also  of  practical  money  value  to  the  printer  to 
know  such  facts,  and  to  always  be  conscious  of 
a  fact  more  likely  to  be  of  practical  use,  namely, 
that  the  sensation  of  color  is  produced  upon  our 
sensory  nerves  in  a  manner  closely  analogous 
to  that  which  produces  the  sensation  of  har- 
mony :  by  ether  waves  set  in  motion  in  a  dif- 
ferent way.  These  sensory  nerves  are  the  most 

[  56] 


easily  entered  avenues  to  our  pleasurable  sen- 
sations; far  more  delicate  and  responsive  than 
the  different  brain  organs  to  the  more  obvious 
consciousnesses,  as  personal  regard  and  literary 
appreciation,  etc. 

The  printer  handling  color  is  making  an 
appeal  of  the  most  subtle  and  delicate  nature, 
vastly  more  so  than  is  made  by  the  type  matter 
that  may  form  the  body  of  the  piece  of  print- 
ing he  is  embellishing  with  color. 

There  are  three  primary  colors — red,  yellow, 
and  blue — and  three  composite  colors,  which 
can  be  formed  by  mixings  of  primary  colors  — 
green,  orange,  and  violet.  It  is  of  importance 
to  the  printer  to  know  which  of  these  colors 
are  complementary  and  which  uncomplemen- 
tary.  Complementary  colors  are  those  that  may 
be  used  in  close  conjunction  without  one  un- 
favorably affecting  the  other.  This  is  the  secret 
of  complementary,  or  harmonious,  colors :  Will 
they  make  white  if  mixed  ?  This  means  a  natural 
and  perfect  union  of  the  light  rays  reflected 
from  the  color  scheme  upon  the  eye's  retina, 
and  so  passed  along  to  the  sensory  nerves — the 
telegraph  line  from  the  physical  world  to  the 
appreciative  brain.  It  appears  that  those  com- 
plementary color  schemes  which  can  be  perfect- 
ly justified  are  such  as  reflect  light  rays  near- 
est like  the  rays  that  show  us  white.  Red  and 

[  57] 


green,  the  two  most  pronounced  and  vigorous 
colors, are  complementary.  When  mixed  in  the 
proper  proportionsthey  produce  white,  butthis 
does  not  mean  that  they  weaken  each  other 
when  otherwise  used;  when  placed  side  by  side 
they  enhance  each  other's  power  and  brilliancy 
by  reflection.  Their  very  intimate  relation  is 
further  shown  by  the  fact  that  red,  by  itself,  is 
bordered  by  a  faint  halo  of  green,  and  green  by 
a  tinge  of  red.  Yellow  and  indigo  also  make 
white  bymixing,and  easilyreveal  traces  of  each 
other  when  properly  manipulated.  This  inter- 
changebetween  complementary  colorsiscarried 
still  further:  The  shadow  of  a  color  does  not 
show  the  color  itself,  but  the  complementary 
color  to  which  it  is  most  nearly  related. 

There  is  a  curious  law  of  optical  mixture  to 
deal  with — that  tendency  of  the  eye  to  unify 
the  color  scheme  which  changes  colors  when 
used  in  combination  upon  a  piece  of  printing 
or  upon  a  canvas.  This  sometimes  so  changes 
the  expected  effect  of  a  color  scheme  that  has 
been  carefully  studied  as  to  render  it  inadvis- 
able to  use  it.  It  is  generally  found  that  opti- 
cal mixture  verifies  the  taste  and  judgment  of 
the  colorist  who  has  been  faithful  to  the  com- 
plementary color  laws,  and  helps  him  to  a  har- 
mony, rather  than  condemns  his  work.  Opti- 
cal mixture  is  too  nearly  a  mere  name  for  a 

[58] 


manifestation  of  the  relation  of  complementary 
colors  to  trouble  the  printer,  though  a  con- 
sciousness of  it  and  its  effect  may  at  times  aid 
him  in  producing  some  delicate  effects. 

The  reasons  for  desiring  reliable  knowledge 
of  these  qualities  of  colors  are  clear.  Brilliancy 
is  obtained  by  using  complementary  colors  side 
by  side,  because  each  gives  to  the  other  its 
favorable  halo  of  color;  and  dulness  of  coloring 
followsthe  use  of  uncomplementary  colors  side 
by  side  because  each  partially  kills  the  other 
with  its  unfavorable  halo  of  color. 

Careful  observance  of  this  law  of  colors  will 
not  give  perfect  harmony  to  the  color  scheme, 
but  it  will  give  one  of  the  more  important  ele- 
ments of  harmony.  But  there  is  an  important 
exception  to  be  noted. The  law  of  contrast  claims 
attention,  though  it  cannot  produce  harmony. 
Strong  effects  may  be  obtained  by  ignoring 
these  rules  relative  to  harmony,  or  by  boldly 
employing  pronounced  discords  and  seeking 
to  so  mitigate  the  discord  as  to  tempt  the 
attention  to  divide  itself  between  the  contrast- 
ing colors.  Red  and  blue  in  the  national  flag 
are  so  tempered  with  pure  white  as  to  subdue 
their  fierce  antagonism.  And  so  it  may  be  with 
other  examples — there  must  be  either  some 
overpowering  sentiment  or  some  skilful  expe- 
dient, like  breaking  the  main  colors  into  lower 

[59  ] 


tints,  to  ease  the  transit  from  one  to  the  other. 
A  good  piece  of  color  work  need  not  be  com- 
posed of  different  colors.  It  may  be  composed 
of  different  shades  of  the  same  color,  or  of  tints 
very  nearly  related.  This  requires  a  good  work- 
able knowledge  of  perspective  and  of  that  rather 
elusive  and  indefinite  quality  known  in  paint- 
ing as  "values";  which  chiefly  means  that  each 
tint  employed  in  a  piece  of  work  shall  be  placed 
as  it  would  appear  in  nature  and  shall  proper- 
ly harmonize  with  every  shade  or  color  in  the 
piece.  Such  a  composition  as  this  is  difficult  for 
a  letter-press  printer,  less  so  for  a  lithographer, 
with  exactly  the  kind  of  delicate  manoeuvering 
that  delights  some  painters.  It  involves  such 
fine  discriminations  as  are  necessary  to  show  the 
difference  between  a  white  handkerchief  and 
white  snow,  between  a  gray  house  and  a  gray 
sky,  between  a  green  tree  and  a  green  moun- 
tain, between  a  carnation  pink  and  a  pink  mus- 
lin gown. 

It  is  well  to  appreciate  the  difference  between 
color  and  colors,  and  to  recognize  the  fact  that 
good  color  does  not  necessarily  alone  mean  the 
degree  of  brightness  or  contrast,  but  is  oftener 
found  in  accordance,  mellowness  and  richness. 
Color  does  not  always  mean  bright  color.  There 
is  beginning  to  be  seen  some  low  keyed  color 
work,  simple  in  color  composition.  It  is  a  good 

[60] 


sign.  It  is  only  the  masters  who  are  able  to 
successfully  cope  with  the  high  keyed  composi- 
tions, and  the  masters  are,  as  they  ever  were, 
scarce. 

The  wise  choose,  when  there  is  a  choice,  such 
harmonies  as  may  be  indicated  by  mahogany 
wood  and  Cordova  leather;  Indian  red  instead 
of  brick  red,  peacock  blue  instead  of  sky  blue, 
olive  green  instead  of  grass  green;  golden 
browns,  garnet  reds,  Egyptian  yellows,  deep 
tones  of  brown,  green,  and  orange.  These  colors 
are  not  gay,  flippant  nor  flimsy;  they  are  dig- 
nified and  good  style ;  they  have  a  quality  of 
beauty  inherent  in  them  —  a  depth;  and  they 
may  be  in  keeping  with  a  motive  in  the  printed 
piece  that  means  something  other  and  better 
than  a  shock  to  the  color  sense. 


[6i  ] 


Tone 


Tone 

O  quality  of  printing  is  of  more 
general  importance  than  tone. 
It  has  great  weight  as  a  purely 
artistic  attribute,  and  it  has  a 
great  physiological  value.  If  the 
tone  of  a  page  of  print  is  not  right — if  it  does 
not  conform  very  closely  to  the  standard  set  up 
by  the  rules  of  art — it  will  not  be  "easy"  read- 
ing, and  will  severely  try  eyes  that  are  not  ab- 
solutely normal  and  perfectly  strong.  Here  as 
elsewhere,  and  as  is  the  unvarying  rule,  the  art 
standard  is  the  standard  required  by  hygiene 
and  common  sense. 

It  is  of  the  greatest  importance  that  a  printed 
page  shall  be  toned,  with  respect  to  the  pro- 
portion of  visible  white  paper  and  black  type, 
in  strict  accord  with  the  requirements  of  art, 
which  are  identical  with  the  rules  that  guard 
healthy  eyesight. 

Tone  in  painting  has  a  radically  different 
meaning  in  America  from  themeaningattached 
to  the  term  in  England  and  in  France,  and  it 
appears  to  be  less  important.  The  American 

[65] 


meaning  of  the  word  tone  as  an  element  in 
painting  is  that  it  refers  to  the  dominant  color 
of  a  picture;  that  is,  as  one  would  note  that  the 
prevailing  color  of  a  certain  picture  is  red,  of 
another  yellow,  of  another  blue.  This  makes 
of  tone  a  mere  descriptive  adjective  of  small 
value  as  an  aid  to  a  critical  estimate  or  as  a  guide 
in  creation.  To  the  printer,  this  meaning  of  the 
term  would  bar  it  out  of  his  curriculum.  The 
EnglishunderstandingoftoneisquitedifFerent, 
and  it  appears  more  worthy  of  acceptance.  It  is, 
at  all  events,  the  meaning  that  must  be  accepted 
by  printers  if  they  are  to  derive  any  benefit  from 
a  study  of  tone  as  a  possible  aid  in  their  craft. 
The  English  consider  tone  to  be  "the  proper 
diffusion  of  light  as  it  affects  the  intensities  of 
the  different  objects  in  the  picture;  and  the 
right  relation  of  objects  or  colors  in  shadow  to 
the  parts  of  them  not  in  shadow  and  to  the 
principal  light." 

It  is  easier,  and  may  be  clearer,  to  think  of 
tone  in  a  piece  of  type  composition,  or  in  a 
black-and-white  engraving  prepared  for  print- 
mg,  somewhat  as  we  think  of  tone  in  music. 
And  we  find  upon  getting  further  into  the  sub- 
ject that  it  is  expedient  to  take  advantage  of 
the  extreme  comity  at  present  existing  between 
England  and  America  and  let  the  two  mean- 
ings of  tone  merge  into  a  more  general  one  for 
[66] 


the  benefit  and  use  of  the  printer  in  practice. 
The  painter's  estimate  of  the  tone  of  a  painting 
may  be  understood  by  applying  a  test  cited  by 
awriteruponart:"lfthecanvaswere  placed  up- 
on a  revolving  pin  and  whirled  rapidly  around, 
the  coloring  would  blend  into  a  uniform  tint." 
The  color  tone  of  a  painting  must  then  be  the 
dominant  color,  modified  by  the  subordinate 
colors.  If  the  color  tone  be  yellow  for  example, 
as  it  is  in  some  of  the  good  work  of  Dutch 
artists,  there  must  be  enough  yellow  so  that  it 
will  be  a  yellow  blur  if  the  piece  is  spun  rap- 
idly around. 

In  black-and-white  printing  tone  must  mean 
depth  of  color,  and  diffusion  of  color,  and  the 
tone  can  scarcely  be  otherwise  than  some  shade 
of  gray.  If  it  is  advantageous  to  strive  for  a  cer- 
tain harmony  betw  een  literary  motive  and  type 
motive  an  appreciation  of  the  technical  mean- 
ing of  tone  and  the  utilization  of  the  unique 
test  suggested  may  be  of  great  assistance  to  the 
printer  of  black-and-white  work. 

The  printer  has  to  consider  the  tone  of  his 
piece  in  a  different  light  than  the  painter.  The 
latter  has  only  his  canvas  to  take  account  of, 
and  he  works  his  canvas  to  its  edge.  The  printer 
has  his  page  of  type  and  his  margins.  This 
blends  the  question  of  tone  in  a  very  practical 
way  with  questions  bearing  upon  the  format — 

[67] 


with  the  question  of  proportion  for  example, 
and  with  the  important  question  of  the  balance 
of  the  margins;  and  while  the  determination 
of  the  tone  of  the  type  page  itself,  irrespective 
of  the  margins,  involves  one  weighty  question 
in  optics,  the  placing  of  the  type  page  upon 
the  leaf  involves  another,  quite  different  in  na- 
ture but  none  the  less  important  from  an  artis- 
tic point  of  view. 

It  is  easily  perceived  that  the  element  of  tone 
is  of  considerable  importance  in  what  is  erro- 
neously called  "plain"  composition,  the  black- 
and-white  book  page.  In  color  printing  it  is 
apparent  that  the  knowledge  of  tone  is  of  more 
practical  importance,  as  colored  printed  pieces 
should  show  a  decided  preponderance  of  that 
tone  which  best  illustrates  or  translates  the  idea 
that  the  piece  is  conceived  for  the  purpose  of 
expressing.  It  may  be  important  that  a  certain 
piece  emphatically  presents  to  the  eye  a  certain 
shade  of  red.  It  must  be  just  enough  given  over 
to  the  red  to  produce  the  effect  required  —  no 
more,  no  less.  There  must  be  red  everywhere, 
but  not  too  much.  The  simple  test  will  show 
the  printer  whether  he  is  overloading  his  piece 
with  the  dominant  color  or  whether  he  has  not 
yet  used  enough.  The  color  scheme  must  be 
keyed  to  the  required  pitch  of  color,  as  a  piece 
of  music  written  in  a  certain  key  must  be  kept 
[68  ] 


free  from  notes  belonging  to  another  key.  But 
not  absolutely  free,  of  necessity;  short  notes  of 
another  key,  and  very  few  of  them,  may  be  in- 
troduced. Soatouch  of  aradically  different  color 
may  be  thrust  into  a  composition  without  ruin- 
ing it,  as  a  bit  of  brick  red  or  small  patch  of 
blue  in  a  monotone,  or  a  little  green  or  yellow 
in  a  red  composition,  but  not  enough  to  show 
plainly  when  we  apply  the  whirling  test. 

This  more  obvious  meaning  of  the  term  tone 
seems  to  be  applicable  to  printing,  at  least  to 
theextentof  informing  and  modifying  the  mind 
of  the  printer.  The  moreimportant  significance 
of  the  term  in  painting  means  but  little  to  the 
printer,  as  it  deals  in  modifications  and  grada- 
tions in  color  not  practicable  in  typography, 
and  applying,  so  far  as  printing  in  general  is 
concerned,  to  engravings. 


[  69  ] 


Light  and  Shade 


Light  and  Shade 

^r^^^^g  IGHT  and  shade  means  nearly 
jY  ^^>Nm  the  same  as  the  English  idea  of 
V  y<Z^^I  ^^^^y  t°  the  printer,  as  it  has  to 
//  ^^^^L  ^^  yf\th.  the  distribution  of  light 
<y  '  ^y   and  shadow  in  such  a  manner  as 

will  best  illustrate  the  motive  of  the  painter. 
This  important  element  in  graphic  art  has  its 
value  for  the  printer.  It  is  only  necessary  to  note 
the  part  played  by  light  and  shade — "light- 
tone" — in  any  work  of  art  to  conceive  how  im- 
portant is  its  office  in  good  printing,  particularly 
in  the  printing  of  the  modern  process  engrav- 
ings. Some  of  the  older  Japanese  and  Chinese 
paintings  are  nearly  devoid  of  light  and  shade, 
and  are  therefore  given  that  appearance  of  flat- 
ness and  false  perspective  which  is  their  dis- 
tinctive characteristic.  Egyptian  and  Assyrian 
wall  painting,  and  many  Italian  paintings  of 
the  medieval  period,  lack  this  quality,  and  they 
sharply  emphasize  its  importance  in  graphic 
art.  In  nature  it  is  more  important  than  in  art. 
We  can  recognize  no  form  except  by  the  aid 
of  light  and  shade,  neither  a  grain  of  sand  nor 

[73  ] 


a  mountain,  nor  any  other  physical  thing.  It 
is  probable  that  every  piece  of  good  printing 
owes  some  of  its  excellence  to  this  element  of 
light  and  shade;  and  as  directly  to  tone.  Light 
and  shade  has  reference  to  the  proper  propor- 
tion of  light  to  shadow,  and  of  shadow  to  light ; 
not  to  the  proper  proportion  of  light  to  shade 
in  a  composition.  That  is  tone.  Is  there  light 
enough  to  supplement  the  shadow,  and  thus 
bring  the  object  illustrated  into  such  reasonable 
harmony  with  nature  as  to  warrant  us  in  accept- 
ing it  as  a  faithful  picture  of  nature?  Does  the 
composition,  in  other  words,  appear  natural  to 
an  untrained  vision? 

It  is  the  persistent  study  of  this  question  of 
light  and  shade  which  has  rescued  the  halftone 
engraving  from  the  pit  of  oblivion  into  which 
it  seemed  destined  to  fall  during  its  early  days, 
and  placed  it  in  the  forefront  of  illustrative  pro- 
cesses. Probably  the  halftone  of  today,  which 
in  competent  hands  is  a  superb  and  exact  re- 
corder of  nature,  is  not  strikingly  better  in  any 
other  detail  than  it  was  in  its  early  days  except 
the  one  quality  of  light  and  shade.  This  variety 
of  illustration  was  as  flat  and  as  expressionless 
asa  Chinese  painting  until  artist,  engraver,  and 
printer  conspired  to  give  it  expression  and  veri- 
similitude by  working  up  its  capacity  to  bring 
light  and  shade  fully  and  broadly  to  its  task. 

[74] 


There  can  be  no  rule  that  will  apply  to  this  em- 
ployment of  light  and  shade.  Rules  there  are, 
but  they  apply  with  truth  only  to  one  experi- 
ence— that  which  prompted  their  formulation. 
The  eye  of  the  printer  is  the  guide.  This  is  the 
reason  why  he  should  study  this  question,  and 
others  of  similar  artistic  value,  from  the  point 
of  view  of  the  artist,  not  from  the  viewpoint  of 
the  printer. 


[7J] 


Val 


ues 


Values 

H  E  quality  in  a  painting  which 
isknown  as  "values"  may  quite 
easily  be  regarded  by  the  print- 
er as  signifying  to  him  the  same 
as  tone.  Careful  study  will  show 
him  that  there  is  a  difference,  and  also  that 
value  is  a  vital  element  in  his  work  which  has 
for  him  a  real  significance.  Value  may  not  un- 
fairly be  considered  to  be  an  element  of  tone. 
It  relates  to  the  intensity  of  light;  not  the  bril- 
liancy of  color,  but  the  capacity  that  resides  in 
color  to  reflect  light.  I  n  color  printing  the  value 
of  the  most  common  colors  ranks  with  yellow 
first,  then  orange,  green,  red,  blue,  and  violet. 
That  is,  yellow  is  capable  of  reflecting  more  light 
from  the  same  quantity  of  sunlight  than  any 
other  color,  and  violet  less  than  any  other  color. 
Scientists  have  reckoned  that  chrome  yellow 
reflects  80  per  cent  of  light,  green  40  per  cent, 
etc.  These  figures  serve  no  very  practical  pur- 
pose, because  the  reflecting  power  of  any  tint 
is  dependent  upon  the  other  colors  employed. 
Colors  are  dependent  upon  each  other  for  their 

[79] 


value  as  well  as  for  their  intensity  and  their  har- 
mony. It  is  not  difficult  to  treat  this  matter  of 
value  in  a  mathematical  way,  as  is  suggested  by 
Prof  J.  C.  Van  Dyke :  "  Let  the  chrome  yellow 
with  its  80  per  cent  of  light  represent  a  sunset 
sky  in  the  background;  let  the  green  with  its 
40  per  cent  represent  the  grass  in  the  imme- 
diate foreground;  and  let  the  orange-red  with 
its  60  per  cent  represent  the  sail  of  a  Venetian 
fishing  vessel  upon  the  water  of  the  middle  dis- 
tance. Now  we  have  the  three  leading  pitches 
of  light  in  the  three  planes  of  the  picture,"  and 
the  problem  would  stand  thus :  40:60 : :  60: 80 
and  the  result  will  indicate  the  relative  power 
of  the  value  in  the  picture. 

Interesting,  but  not  especially  useful,  the 
"practical"  printer  says.  No,  not  unless  there 
is  recognizable  in  this,  as  in  all  that  has  been 
said  about  art  in  printing,  the  subtle  relation 
between  the  vital  elements  of  graphic  art  and 
those  refinements  of  knowledge  and  practice 
which  tend  to  bring  printing  nearer  to  the  arts. 
The  connection  is  there,  and  is  evident  to  the 
seeing  eye.  In  nature  and  in  life  the  sense  of 
values  is  of  such  importance  that  without  it 
objects  would  not  have  relative  positions;  all 
would  be  a  jumble  of  shades  and  tones,  objects 
and  colors;  we  would  stumble,  as  we  could  not 
see  depressions;  we  would  grasp  an  arm  or  the 

[80] 


empty  air,  when  we  attempted  to  seize  a  hand; 
we  could  not  judge  distances.  It  is  upon  the 
extent  and  the  thoroughness  of  the  printer's 
knowledge  of  this  question  of  values  that  the 
degree  of  refinement  and  truth  he  is  able  to 
impart  to  a  certain  class  of  work  depends,  and 
hence  its  money  value  to  him  and  its  intrinsic 
value  to  his  patrons. 


[8i  ] 


Paper 


Paper 

APER  is  as  important  an  artistic 
or  esthetic  element  in  the  well- 
made  book  as  it  is  as  a  technical 
element;  and  it  is  likewise  to  be 
regarded  from  the  point  of  view 
of  the  optician  and  the  physiologist. 

It  is  possible  to  select  a  paper  for  any  book 
that  will  lend  itself  to  the  artistic  scheme  of  the 
book.  It  has  not  long  been  possible  to  do  this. 
The  product  of  the  skilled  paper  maker  has 
morethanquadrupledjin  artistic  variety, during 
the  few  years  last  past,  until  it  is  now  the  fault 
of  its  designer  if  a  book  intended  to  be  harmo- 
niously artistic  is  not  as  true  to  its  motive  in 
paper  as  in  typography  or  binding.  But  it  is  evi- 
dent that  paper  for  a  book  cannot  be  selected 
without  reference  to  the  typography,  the  plates, 
andother  mechanical  features.  A  gradeof  paper 
that  would  be  appropriate  for  the  printing  of 
a  rugged-faced  type  (like  Caslon)  upon,  would 
not  do  at  all  for  a  conventional  type,  such  as  the 
Scotch  face,  it  might  be  discovered,  eventhough 
the  paper,  in  texture  and  finish,  seemed  to  be 

[  85] 


peculiarly  appropriate  for  the  literary  motive. 
There  are  certain  type  faces  which  may  be  print- 
ed upon  paper  that  is  milk  white,  and  certain 
other  faces  that  lend  themselves  more  readily 
to  the  production  of  harmonious  tonal  effects 
whenthe  paper  hasa"naturar' tint,  or  is  thrown 
strongly  toward  a  brown  color.  Either  of  these 
combinationsjor  any  similar  combination,  may 
harmonize  unfavorably  with  the  literary  mo- 
tive, or  with  the  scheme  for  proportion  and 
balance,  or  with  the  tone  and  values  element, 
and  though  admirable  in  itself  have  to  be  finally 
rejected. 

The  weight  and  texture  of  the  paper  have  to 
be  considered  as  minutely  and  as  carefully,  and 
with  the  same  principles  in  full  view.  A  deli- 
cate and  shy  literary  motive  must  not  be  given 
the  massive  dignity  of  heavy  handmade  paper 
and  large  and  strong  type.  Such  a  scheme  is 
harrowing  to  a  sensitive  reader's  nerves  and 
rudely  subversive  of  the  more  obvious  and 
elemental  artistic  principles. 

It  is  a  complex  and  an  involved  process  to 
select  the  proper  paper  for  a  given  piece  of 
printing,  and  the  rightful  decision  of  either  of 
the  component  elements  involves  the  rightful 
decision  with  reference  to  each  of  the  others. 
Itisimpossibletoconsiderthequestion  of  paper 
apart  from  a  consideration  of  the  typography, 
[86] 


the  illustrations,  the  format,  and  the  binding; 
and  it  is  not  possible  to  consider  either  of  these 
elements  apart  from  the  literary  motive,  which 
must  always  be  the  foundation  of  the  structure. 

Paper  is  one  of  the  group  of  coordinately 
important  elements  in  a  piece  of  artistic  print- 
ing, and  only  one,  and  never  otherwise  than 
strictly  coordinate.  It  may  not  be  considered  by 
itself,  unless  possible  disaster  be  consciously 
and  deliberately  invited. 

Therefore  beforethespecificationsfora  book 
or  other  piece  of  printing  are  otherwise  fixed,  it 
is  necessary  to  decide  upon  the  paper  to  be  used. 
It  is  one  of  the  elements  of  printing  over  which 
the  printer  exercises  no  control  except  the  lib- 
erty of  choice.  Hecanchoosethe  paper  he  wishes 
to  use,  but  he  cannot  adapt  it.  He  can  adapt  his 
typographic  plan  and  his  color  scheme,  and  ad- 
just them  to  the  paper  in  such  fashion  as  will 
result  in  harmony  for  the  completed  work,  but 
his  paper  he  is  obliged  to  take  as  the  paper- 
maker  furnishes  it.  Forthis reason, and  because 
the  paper  is  actually  a  foundation  element  in 
printing,  it  is  necessary  that  printers  know  about 
paper,  and  that  those  who  essay  to  execute  work 
of  a  high  standard  be  familiar  with  its  history, 
composition,  and  methods  of  manufacture. 

Too  much  importance  will  not  be  likely  to 
be  attached  to  the  history  of  paper,  for  it  runs 

[87] 


parallel  with  the  record  of  the  advance  of  civili- 
zation and  learning,  and  it  has  been  an  indis- 
pensable factor  in  that  advance.  When  we  note 
the  important  part  played  by  paper  in  the  com- 
plicated scheme  of  our  twentieth  century  lives, 
we  maygain  some  faint  appreciation  of  its  place 
and  relative  importance  as  a  factor  of  life.  As  a 
factor  in  printing  it  has  been  customary  to  place 
paper  first  in  the  list.  It  is  a  safe  practice,though 
the  versatility  of  the  paper  makers  is  yearly 
making  it  less  essential  to  do  so.  Yet,  when  all 
the  progress  in  paper  making  has  been  con- 
sidered, it  paradoxically  remains  that  the  selec- 
tion of  paper  by  the  printer  is  not  the  simple 
matter  it  was  only  a  few  years  ago. 

With  the  progress  of  the  art  of  printing  dur- 
ing the  last  quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century 
there  has  come  complexity  in  all  its  branches. 
Type  has  been  wondrously  multipHed,  inks 
are  in  greater  profusion,  and  varieties  of  paper 
have  rapidly  multiplied.  The  good  printer  of 
today  needs  to  know  the  history  of  the  evolu- 
tion of  type,  ink,  and  paper,  if  he  hopes  to  be 
able  to  cope  successfully  with  the  problems 
facing  him. 

One  reason  for  this  particularity  of  know- 
ledge is  the  tendency  of  the  laity  to  study  the 
technical  phases  of  printing.  Type  founders 
have  courted  the  attentionof  large  consumers 
[88] 


of  printed  matter  and  of  large  advertisers,  and 
the  lay  knowledge  of  type  has  led  to  a  like 
result  regarding  paper.  So  that  it  at  present 
happens  that  the  printer's  patron  is  able  to 
dictate  the  style  of  typography  he  desires,  and 
the  quality  and  tint  of  paper  he  prefers.  This 
predicates  knowledge  on  the  part  of  the  printer; 
and  in  the  case  of  paper  it  necessitates  expert 
knowledge.  Type  is  type,  speaking  somewhat 
loosely,  and,  whatever  the  crotchet  a  consumer 
of  printing  may  get  into  his  head  it  is  not  likely 
to  cost  more  than  about  so  much  a  pound.  It  is 
otherwise  with  paper,  and  generally  it  is  more 
the  color,  texture,  and  appearance  the  patron 
wishes  than  the  intrinsic  value,  and  the  printer 
must  make  a  choice  that  shall  satisfy  the  artistic 
exigencies  of  the  case,  as  well  as  consider  its 
financial  aspects.  One  paper  may  be  unsuited 
for  a  particular  piece  of  work,  and  another  of 
the  same  tint,  weight,  and  price  may  be  exactly 
suitable;  and  the  reason  may  lie  in  so  obscure 
a  cause  as  the  peculiar  process  of  manufacture, 
or  the  chemical  nature  of  material  used  by  cer- 
tain paper  mills,  or  a  slight  variation  in  finish 
that  may  affect  ink  in  a  different  manner. 

A  bright  and  observing  printer  inevitably  be- 
comes more  or  less  versed  in  paper.He  handl  es  it 
continually,  and  cannot  avoid  recognizing  cer- 
tain more  evident  differences.  What  is  learned 

[  89] 


in  this  way  is  good  knowledge,  but  it  takes  a 
long  time  to  get  a  comprehensive  acquaintance 
with  paper,  and  there  has  not  in  the  meantime 
been  built  up  that  flawless  reputation  for  good 
work  which  all  printers  regard  as  the  very  best 
capital. 

The  printer  who  knows  about  paper  knows 
about  its  history,  its  composition,  and  the  meth- 
ods of  manufacture.  To  him  wood-pulp  paper 
is  not  all  the  same,  and  he  knows  what  he  means 
when  he  speaks  of  "all  rag"  or  "handmade." 
He  knows  that  paper  made  wholly  of  wood 
varies  in  goodness  according  as  it  is  made  by 
this  or  that  process — mechanical  wood,  soda, 
or  sulphite;  and  knows  that  "all  rags"  may  be 
all  cotton,  or  all  linen,  or  a  combination  of  rags, 
or  a  combination  of  wood  and  rags,  or  indeed 
all  wood,  or  some  vegetable  fiber  not  specified. 
It  is  not  the  mere  exhibition  of  this  sort  of 
knowledge  that  particularly  signifies;  it  is  that 
it  adds  greatly  to  the  printer's  power  to  execute 
good  work,  as  it  places  him  in  a  position  to 
select  the  most  suitable  paper,  and  insures  his 
reputation.  It  enables  him  to  execute  a  piece  of 
work  intended  to  endure  a  long  time  in  a  man- 
ner that  will  preserve  its  beauty,  so  that  it  will 
not  fade  or  turn  a  dirty  brown  or  yellow  color, 
as  well  as  to  make  his  paper  play  its  legitimate 
role  as  the  most  important  inflexible  art  element 

[90] 


he  will  usually  find  it  necessary  to  deal  with. 
A  knowledge  of  paper  in  this  thorough  sense 
is  even  more  desirable  if  a  printer  presumes 
to  arrogate  to  himself  the  title  and  qualities  of 
an  artist.  It  is  scarcely  too  radical  to  assert  that 
the  esthetics  of  printing  depend  for  exempli- 
fication more  upon  paper  than  upon  typog- 
raphy. It  has  been  said  that  type,ink,  and  paper 
go  to  the  making  of  good  printing.  This  for- 
mula may  be  reversed  and  made  to  read  paper, 
ink,  and  type,  since  so  much  of  the  effect  of 
decorative  printing  depends  upon  the  paper 
and  the  ink.  If  these  two  harmonize  properly 
it  remains  that  the  type  must  not  interfere  but 
must  play  the  negative  role  of  conformity.  It 
is  the  paper  that  is  selected  first,  then  the  ink, 
and  lastly  the  typography  is  brought  into  the 
scheme.  Typography,  as  an  ornate  art,  has 
dwindled,  and  the  skilled  constructor  of  won- 
derful effects  with  types  and  rule  is  no  longer 
esteemed  in  the  job  room.  The  arbiter  of  style 
sits  in  the  counting-room,  and  turns  the  leaves 
of  the  paper  and  type  specimen  books  before 
the  critical  eyes  of  the  patron.  The  job  is  built 
upon  a  paper  sample,  and  the  designer  sees  it 
completed  in  his  mind  before  he  sends  it  to  the 
compositor. 


[91  ] 


Styl( 


Style 

TYLE  is  that  subtle  atmosphere 
pervading  hterary,  artistic  and 
handicraft  work  that  suggests  the 
cultivated  personality  of  the  au- 
thor. It  is  not  a  usual  nor  a  clear 
conception  of  style  to  consider  the  term  as 
applicable  to  inferior  work.  The  word,  as  used 
to  designate  quality,  has  come  to  mean  positive 
and  recognizable  merit,  and  generally  also  that 
indefinite  but  powerfully  distinctive  merit  indi- 
cating individuality. 

The  word  is  used  somewhat  in  this  sense, 
though  more  broadly,  in  descriptive  art  nomen- 
clature, as  when  the  style  of  a  Rubens  or  of  a 
Titian  is  spoken  of;  and  in  art  it  often  appears 
that  the  word  is  used  more  commonly  to  des- 
ignate a  school  or  a  genre  of  painting,  than  to 
point  to  the  work  of  any  particular  person  of 
the  present  or  the  recent  past.  Yet  it  is  noted 
that  whenever  an  artist  is  able  to  attract  favor- 
able attention  through  the  exercise  of  talents 
markedly  his  own,  he  is  at  once  credited  with 
a  style  that  is  distinctively  and  peculiarly  his. 

[95] 


It  is  quite  fair  and  just  therefore  to  consider 
that  style  in  printing  means  that  quality  of 
beauty  or  distinction  which  is  to  be  directly 
referred  to  the  printer,  rather  than  those  merito- 
rious qualities  that  owe  their  existence  to  care- 
ful followingofestablishedrules  and  principles, 
concerningwhichallprintershave,ormayhave, 
a  working  knowledge.  There  are  some  printers 
whose  work  is  so  redolent  of  a  peculiar  style  as 
to  be  recognizable  to  observing  persons;  and 
such  work  has  a  quality  that  may  almost  be  said 
to  be  narrow.  The  possessor  of  a  style  pro- 
nounced enough  to  have  attracted  attention  is 
also  usually  limited  in  his  range;  is,  in  fact,  an 
exponent  of  his  own  peculiar  style  and  is  but 
little  else. 

Style  does  not  absolutely  involve  excellence; 
only  a  distinctive  individuality.  That  individ- 
uality may  produce  printed  work  that  may  be 
wholly  bad,  or  it  may  be  the  hall  mark  of  a 
supreme  excellence.  This  is  the  technical  mean- 
ing of  the  word.  In  usage  the  word  style  is 
generally  understood  to  imply  excellence,  and 
a  high  grade  and  peculiarly  distinctive  excel- 
lence. The  derivation  of  the  word  is  sugges- 
tive of  the  accepted  appreciation  of  its  scope. 
It  is  the  Latin  name  for  an  iron  pen,  but  it  has 
come  to  signify  not  only  the  art  that  wields 
the  pen  but  it  is  applied  to  the  whole  range  of 

[96] 


the  productive  activities  of  man;  to  music, 
painting,  architecture,  sculpture,  dancing,  act- 
ing, tennis  and  baseball  playing;  to  burglary 
and  picking  of  pockets,  and  to  printing. 

In  printing,  style  is  an  element  of  value,  and 
may  be  accorded  as  careful  attention  as  is  given 
to  the  type  outfit,  to  the  presses,  or  to  the  em- 
ployes. We  can  perhaps  think  of  half  a  dozen 
printers  who  have  made  great  reputations  and 
considerable  fortunes  through  having  a  style 
thatappealed  singularlyto  purchasers  of  print- 
ed matter.  What  is  there  in  the  work  of  Mr. 
De  Vinne's  press  that  gives  the  name  a  distinct 
value?  Why  do  publishers  announce  in  their 
advertisements  that  certain  books  are  printed 
by  DeVinne?  Mr.  De  Vinne's  style  is  valu- 
able to  him  and  to  the  publishers  who  employ 
him  to  make  books  for  them. 

Probably  there  is  not  an  intelligent  printer 
who  may  read  this  who  does  not  recognize  the 
value  of  style  in  printing,  and  who  does  not, 
more  or  less  seriously,  struggle  to  acquire  for 
himself  a  distinctive  style,  and  chiefly  because 
he  knows  that  the  possession  of  a  style  that 
appealstothe  buyers  of  printed  matterisalmost 
the  only  sure  means  of  gaining  new  clients  and 
holding  old  ones,  and  obtaining  profit-making 
prices.  While  there  are  many  printers  who  will 
be  inclined  to  scout  the  idea  that  the  possession 

[97] 


of  a  style  of  their  own  would  be  of  financial 
advantage  to  them,  it  is  a  fundamental  element 
in  success.  There  needs  must  be  some  diggers 
ofditcheSjhewersofwood  and  drawers  of  water, 
and  it  is  probably  true  that  the  great  bulk  of 
printing  will  continue  to  be  done  by  workmen, 
a  small  proportion  of  it  by  artisans,  and  an 
almost  infinitesimal  portion  by  artists.  Never- 
theless, there  is  a  gravitation  toward  the  artisan 
class,  and  from  it  to  the  sparse  company  of  the 
artist  printers. 

"  The  only  way,"  says  an  acute  literary  critic, 
"to  get  a  good  style  is  to  think  clearly."  That 
is  in  literature. 

In  printing,  the  only  way  to  get  a  good  style 
is  to  know  thoroughly.  Yet  it  is  not  all  to  know. 
The  knowledge  must  be  expressed,  and  it  must 
be  expressed  in  a  manner  agreeable  to  those  to 
whom  printed  matter  is  to  appeal.  They  do  not 
always  know  the  point  of  view  of  the  printer, 
even  if  he  has  a  style  that  is  admirable.  So  his 
style  must,  after  all,  be  subordinate  to  clearness 
and  comprehensibility. 

In  a  piece  of  printing  it  is  necessary  to  bring 
out"the  extreme  characteristic  expression"  of 
the  central  motive.  That  is,  if  the  piece  of  print- 
ing is  intended  to  promote  the  sale  of  a  cer- 
tain substance  or  article  it  is  desirable  that  all 
the  suggestive  power  residing  in  the  types  be 

[98] 


brought  into  play  to  drive  the  motive  home. 
This  is  however  a  secondary  quality  of  style. 
The  primary  quality  is  that  which  attracts  the 
eye,  and  style  for  the  printer  may  be  limited 
to  those  qualities  that  do  most  attract  the  eye 
quickly  and  agreeably. 

The  secondary  literary  constituent  of  style, 
which  is  harmony,  takes  first  rank  in  printing. 
The  three  essentials  of  printing  style  may  be 
generalized  as  knowledge,  harmony,  and  ex- 
pressiveness. In  literature  they  are  thought, 
expressiveness,  and  harmony,  or  melody,  as 
some  have  it.  The  greatest  of  these  is,  of  course, 
knowledge — knowledge  of  the  fundamentals 
which  go  to  the  making  of  the  best  printing. 

It  is  not  possible  to  teach  style.  It  is  almost 
as  impossible  to  acquire  style.  This  seems  like 
a  paradox,  but  a  paradox  is  not  always  a  sym- 
bol of  hopelessness.  Style  must  be  born  in  a 
man — style  in  any  art  or  profession.  "Style," 
a  writer  has  recently  said, "  is  gesture — the  ges- 
ture of  the  mind  and  of  the  soul."  We  can  elim- 
inate the  last  clause,  and  call  style  in  printing 
the  gesture  of  the  mind,  the  evidence  of  the 
amount  and  degree  of  knowledge  possessed  by 
the  mind,  tempered,  arranged,  given  distinc- 
tion, by  the  born  talent,  aptitude,  or  whatever 
it  may  be  termed,  which  is  the  seed  germ  of 
style.  We  do  not  hesitate  to  accept  the  obvious 

[99] 


theory  that  artists  are  born,  not  made.  Some 
claim  for  printing  that  it  is  an  art.  Why  then 
should  we  hesitate  to  admit  that  a  printer  cap- 
able of  cultivating  and  expressing  a  genuine 
style  must  depend  upon  something  other  than 
mere  knowledge;  something  deeper  and  more 
subtle  than  knowledge,  which  is  able  to  mould 
knowledge  into  style? 

Style,  in  the  highest  sense,  is  given  to  but 
few,  and  we  cannot  hope  that  printers  will  be 
more  favored,  in  proportion,  than  the  practi- 
tioners of  other  graphic  arts.  But  they  may  be 
as  highly  favored,  if  they  avail  themselves  of  the 
opportunities  for  culturethat  are  open  to  them, 
as  they  are  open  to  other  artists,  and  not  other- 
wise. While  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  the 
printing  art  will  produce  Morrises  or  Bradleys 
with  great  profuseness,  it  is  to  be  frankly  ad- 
mitted that  in  the  grade  next  below — the  grade 
of  talent,  that  is,  as  distinguished  from  the  grade 
of  genius — there  is  not  found  the  high  average 
of  attainment  among  printers  that  rules  in  other 
graphic  arts.  The  reason  is  as  obvious  as  the 
fact :  Printers  are  not  students,  in  the  sense  that 
painters,  etchers,  engravers,  illustrators,  and 
even  photographers,  are  students.  Printers  (the 
progressive  ones)  have  in  recent  years  become 
close  observers  and  good  imitators,  but  there 
are  few  who  have  attempted  to  qualify  them- 

[  lOO  ] 


selves  for  original  work  by  thorough  study  of 
those  principles  of  graphic  art  that  vitally  con- 
trol printing.  The  artist,  in  any  other  line  than 
printing,  comes  to  the  practice  of  his  art  only 
after  prolonged  study  and  mastery  of  the  prin- 
ciples and  the  laws  governing  it.  Not  so  with  the 
printer. 

The  time  has  arrived  when  eminence  in  print- 
ing means  much  more  than  good  work  along 
existing  lines.  It  means  a  radical  departure  and 
the  full  recognition  of  the  power  and  value  of 
art  in  printing.  We  have  been  rather  hesitant 
in  accepting  this  word,  art,  as  applying  legiti- 
mately to  printing,  and  we  have  been  hesitating 
merely  because  we  have  seen  the  term  so  freely 
and  ignorantly  applied  to  work  that  merited  no 
better  name  than  archaic;  to  work  that,  while 
it  usually  possessed  the  common  virtues  of  good 
mechanical  execution,  was  wholly  deficient  in 
those  qualities  which  fairly  entitled  it  to  be  called 
artistic.  But  we  must  put  away  this  prejudice 
against  an  innocent  and  needed  term,  and  bold- 
ly reclaim  it  from  the  philistines.  We  must  re- 
instate in  the  publicmind,  and  in  our  own  minds, 
the  thing  and  the  name  that  fittingly  describes 
the  thing.  We  must  make  art  printing  mean  art 
printing. 

Style  should  be  the  goal  of  the  printer  who 
cherishes  hopes  of  distinction  or  of  wealth. 

[   'O'   ] 


We  have  said  that  style  is  born  in  a  man,  not 
acquired  by  him.  This  is  true,  if  we  consider  the 
highest  development  of  style.  But  we  are  all 
capable  of  greatly  improving  our  style  by  study. 
We  cannot  improve  upon  it  in  any  other  way. 
It  is  almost  useless  for  us  to  observe  the  good 
work  of  others,  for  this  purpose.  We  must  go 
beyond  that.  The  first  step  is  to  keenly  realize 
the  need.  We  are  on  a  par  with  every  other  per- 
son who  wishes  to  truly  understand  any  art.  We 
cannot  arrive  at  that  understanding  by  merely 
wishing  it.  There  is  no  understanding  of  art 
except  through  study  of  art. 

We  may  spend  a  lifetime  looking  at  the  great 
paintings  of  the  world  and  then  know  so  little 
about  them  as  to  appreciate  but  a  tithe  of  the 
rich  store  of  culture  and  pleasure  they  hold  in 
reserve  for  us.  We  may  cultivate  ataste  for  paint- 
ings by  puttingourselves  frequently  undertheir 
influence,  as  we  may  build  up  a  taste  for  liter- 
ature by  strenuous  reading.  But  knowledge,  as 
distinguished  from  acquaintance,givesusavery 
different  conception  of  a  painting,  or  a  piece  of 
sculpture,  or  an  example  of  any  form  of  art,  and 
reveals  to  us  new  beauties.  So  it  is  in  printing. 
We  cannot  do  good  color  printing  unless  we 
understand  color  as  an  artist  understands  it;  we 
cannot  get  the  best  results  from  a  halftone  en- 
graving unless  we  understand  tone,  light  and 

[  I02  ] 


shade,  and  values,  as  an  artist  u  nderstands  them . 
We  are  not  sure  of  our  ground  with  regard  to  a 
page  ofplain  type  matter  unless  we  know  some- 
thing conclusive  about  the  fundamentals  of  art. 
We  cannot  take  one  pronounced  step  to- 
ward acquiring  style  until  we  realize  the  need, 
the  vital  need,  of  a  good  foundation  knowledge 
of  art — not  in  a  historical  sense,  but  in  a  tech- 
nical sense — for  the  technique  of  printing  that 
is  better  than  good. 


[   103  ] 


The  Binding 


The  Binding 

T  is  a  pity  that  bookbinding  and 
printing  have  drifted  so  far  apart, 
since  they  are  so  intimatelyrela- 
ted.  A  good  book  cannot  be  pro- 
duced without  the  cooperation 
of  both  crafts,  and  that  cooperation  ought  to  be 
of  a  much  closer  nature.  The  printing  and  the 
binding  of  a  book  should  be  done  by  artists  or 
craftsmen  actuated  by  a  unity  of  purpose  and 
effort  similar  to  the  unity  that  must  prevail  in 
the  book  if  it  is  to  express  anything  worthy. 
Inthe  production  of  books  of  a  high  excellence 
it  is  necessary  that  the  binding  shall  chord  with 
the  general  nature  as  expressed  through  the 
printing  and  as  fixed  by  the  literary  body.  This 
result  can  only  be  assured  if  the  printers  and 
the  binders  work  in  close  harmony.  When  it  is 
manifestly  present  in  the  book  of  today  it  is 
necessary  to  assume  that  the  agreeable  result 
follows  the  effects  of  some  influence  outside  of 
printers  and  binders,  brought  strongly  to  bear 
upon  each,  rather  than  the  result  of  a  harmo- 
nious understanding  of  the  artistic  proprieties 

[   107  ] 


of  the  case  by  either  the  printer  or  the  binder. 
Binding  has  a  double  significance:  It  is  essen- 
tially artistic,  and  emphatically  a  mechanical 
process.  In  its  artistic  phase  it  rivals  printing; 
it  is  considered  to  be  quite  apart  from  printing, 
in  fact,  since  there  is  a  pretty  decided  cult  in 
bindingthattakes  no  cognizanceof  typography 
or  of  literary  character.  With  this  collector's 
estimate  of  bindings  we  are  not  here  concerned. 
The  desire  to  cheapen  production  has  led  to 
serious  deterioration  in  the  quality  of  binding, 
ofthe  ordinary  library  editions  of  books,  during 
the  past  century.  Machine  methods,  unobjec- 
tionable when  used  upon  very  cheap  books  but 
disastroustothelasting  quality  of  library  books, 
have  obtained  an  undesirable  vogue,  and  they 
are  so  capable  of  cleverly  simulating  good  work 
that  they  have  been  a  very  active  agent  in  the 
decay  of  good  binding  practice.  The  results  of 
the  more  recent  binding  methods  are  extremely 
lamentable,  and  those  results  have  but  partially 
made  themselves  manifest.  The  next  genera- 
tion, and  the  generations  after  the  next,  will 
suffer  for  the  sins  ofthe  binders  of  the  books 
issued  during  the  last  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  The  twentieth  century  may  achieve  no 
more  creditable  record,  but  the  sinning  will  be 
in  the  light  and  will  not  be  due  to  ignorance. 
The  English  Society  of  Arts  charged  a  special 

[  'OS] 


committee  with  the  task  of  investigating  the 
cause  of  the  decay  in  bindings,  and  the  report 
of  this  committee  may  be  one  impulse  urging 
pubHshers  to  require  better  workmanship  and 
better  methods.This  committee  formulated  five 
specifications  against  prevailing  methods,  each 
of  which  constitutes  a  defect  of  a  radical  nature 
recognizable  and  curable  only  by  bookbinders 
orexpertsin  bookbinding.  Books  are,  this  com- 
mittee fou  nd,  sewn  on  too  few  and  too  thin  cords; 
the  slips  are  pared  down  too  much  and  are  not 
always  firmly  enough  laced  into  the  boards;  the 
use  of  hollow  backs  is  condemned;  headbands 
are  not  sufficiently  strong  to  hold  the  leather  of 
the  back  against  the  strain  of  taking  the  book 
from  the  shelf;  leather  used  is  often  far  too  thin; 
leather  is  wetted  and  stretched  to  such  a  point 
that  little  strength  is  left  to  resist  wear  and  tear. 
It  must  be  noted  in  extenuation  that  at  least 
one  of  the  counts  in  this  indictment  may  be 
partially  condoned,  upon  the  ground  that  the 
fault  crept  into  bookbinding  practice  with  the 
intent  to  facilitate  the  reading  of  the  book  and 
notto  cheapen  its  production.  The  hollow  back 
was  adopted  for  the  twofold  purpose  of  allow- 
ing the  book  to  be  opened  easily  and  flatly  and 
to  preserve  the  tooling  and  gilding  on  the  back. 
This  form  of  back  need  not  be  always  reckoned 
as  bad.  It  is  quite  possible  to  bind  a  book  well 
[   109  ] 


and  use  the  hollow  back,  and  it  is  extremely 
easy  to  use  the  hollow  back  to  cover  sins  that 
ought  not  to  be  condoned  in  a  binding. 

The  life  of  a  book  depends  upon  its  binding. 
The  leading  idea  in  planning  a  binding  for  a 
good  book  should  therefore  be  to  strive  for 
strength,  durability,  and  convenience.  To  beau- 
tify a  book  in  its  binding  should  be  the  sec- 
ondary motive.  But  the  idea  of  beauty,  through 
harmony  and  the  application  of  elementary  art 
precepts,  may  always  be  considered  with  the 
strictly  utilitarian  processes,  and  the  book  may 
be  brought  into  close  accord  with  the  require- 
ments of  art  without  any  strain  for  art  efforts 
being  apparent  nor  any  economical  or  mechani- 
cal purpose  being  strained  or  perverted.  This 
can  be  effected  by  arranging  the  binding  to  tone 
with  the  literary  and  typographic  motives,  and 
studying  to  have  all  details  harmonious — such 
as  the  lettering  on  the  side  and  back ;  the  design 
of  the  stamp  for  the  cover,  if  there  be  a  stamp; 
the  material  for  the  cover,  its  texture  and  its 
color,  etc. 

It  is  manifestly  impossible  to  put  into  print 
specific  directions  for  the  binding  of  a  book  to 
bring  it  within  the  meaning  of  the  term  "artis- 
tic" while  it  does  not  depart  from  the  ordinary 
in  quality  or  form.  It  is  quite  easy  to  perceive 
however  that  for  a  book  of  a  certain  literary 
[  "o] 


quality  a  binding  consisting  of  a  buckram  back 
and  paper  sides  is  exactly  appropriate,  while  a 
cloth  binding  with  a  gilt  stamp  is  obviously  not 
harmonious.  If  the  title-stamp  on  the  back  of 
a  book  is  made  of  type  unlike  that  used  for  the 
title-page  there  is  a  jarring  note  that  might  eas- 
ily have  been  avoided.  The  motive  of  a  book 
should  extend  its  influence  to,  and  envelope, 
every  process  necessary  for  its  completion;  it 
should  be  as  apparently  in  control  of  every 
detail  of  the  visible  binding  as  of  the  typog- 
raphy, the  format,  and  the  paper.  It  produces 
an  agreeable  impression  upon  the  reader  if  he 
discovers  this  artistic  unity  in  a  book  he  hopes 
to  extract  literary  profit  or  enjoyment  from — 
if  the  typography,  the  format,  the  paper,  and 
the  binding  all  tone  to  the  same  key,  and  that 
key  in  harmony  with  the  literary  motive. 

This  much  of  art  is  possible  for  all  bindings. 
When  they  rise  above  this  mere  expression  of 
harmony,  of  unity,  there  is  a  widely  different 
question  involved.  Then  there  must  be  art  for 
art's  sake,  rather  than  art  for  the  book's  sake; 
and  of  bindings  that  are  in  and  of  themselves 
works  of  art  we  have  for  the  present  nothing 
to  say. 

As  to  exactly  what  constitutes  a  proper  bind- 
ing for  a  given  book  there  may  be  differences 
of  opinion,  especially  if  the  inquiry  be  pushed 

[  III  ] 


so  far  as  to  involve  questions  of  art,  or  ques- 
tions concerning  the  artistic  qualities  of  har- 
mony and  unity.  There  are  however  certain 
broad  lines  which  may  be  indicated  within  which 
worthy  bindings  must  be  brought, leavingplen- 
ty  of  latitude  for  individuality  in  taste  and  in 
judgment.  What  these  basic  requirements  are 
is  perfectly  known  to  practical  bookbinders 
and  to  publishers;  to  many  printers  as  well. 
They  should  be  as  familiar  to  the  lay  mind,  and 
every  book  should  have  printed  somewhere  in 
it  a  clear  statement  of  the  specifications  of  its 
binding.  Its  typography  is  visible;  so  is  its  for- 
mat and  its  paper.  The  vital  parts  of  its  binding 
are  concealed,  from  the  expert  as  from  the  tyro, 
and  every  purchaser  of  an  ordinary  book  stands 
to  lose  heavily  if  the  foundations  of  its  binding 
are  not  honestly  laid. 

The  specifications  for  the  binding  of  a  fine 
book  should  show,  then,  that  the  cover  ma- 
terial is  all  leather  of  some  one  of  the  approved 
sorts  and  properly  manufactured,  sheets  care- 
fully folded,  single  leaves  guarded  round  the 
sections  next  to  them,  all  plates  guarded,  guards 
sewn  through,  and  no  pasting  or  overcasting; 
end  papers  sewn  on  and  made  of  good  paper, 
board  papers  of  good  quality  of  paper  or  vel- 
lum ;  edgestobe  trimmed  and  gilt  before  sewing, 
or  left  uncut;  sewing  to  be  with  ligature  silk 

[  "O 


arou  nd  five  bands  of  best  sewing  cord ;  back  to  be 
as  nearly  flat  as  possible  without  forcing  it  and 
withoutdanger  of  its  becoming  concave  in  use; 
boards  to  be  of  the  best  black  millboard,  and 
thefive  bands  laced  in  through  two  holes;  head- 
bands to  be  worked  with  silk  on  strips  of  vel- 
lum or  catgut  or  cord,  with  frequent  tiedowns, 
and  "set"  by  pieces  of  good  paper  or  leather 
glued  at  head  and  tail;  lettering  to  be  legible, 
in  harmony  with  the  typography  of  the  book 
or  with  the  decorations;  decorations  such  as  may 
be  wished. 

These  skeletonized  specifications  may  be 
modified  in  some  particulars  if  they  are  to  be 
applied  to  grades  of  books  below  the  best,  but 
great  care  and  good  judgment  must  be  exer- 
cised to  guard  against  an  extent  of  deterioration 
which  will  bring  the  book  below  its  standard  of 
utility  and  beauty.  For  library  books,  for  ex- 
ample, the  covers  may  be  half  leather  or  any  ot 
the  several  serviceable  cloths;  the  end  papers 
may  dispense  with  the  board  papers;  the  edges 
may  be  cut  guillotine  and  colored  instead  of  gilt, 
or  the  top  only  may  be  gilt ;  the  sewing  may  be 
donewithunbleachedthread  andthe  tapes  may 
be  reduced  to  four  of  unbleached  linen;  the 
boards  may  be  of  split  gray  stock  or  of  straw- 
board  with  black  board  liner,  andthe  tapes  may 
be  attached  to  portion  of  waste  sheet  inserted 

[  "3] 


between  the  boards;  the  headbands  may  be 
omitted  and  cord  substituted,  or  they  may  be 
worked  with  thread  or  vellum. 


[   "4] 


specifications 


Specifications 

The  paperinthisbookis  French  handmade, 
16x20 — 29,  imported  by  the  Japan  Paper 
Company  of  New  York,  and  catalogued  as 
No.  333. 

Thetypeisa  liberal  modification  of  the  Cas- 
lon,  12  point.  It  was  designed  and  cast  by  the 
Boston  branch  of  the  American  Type  Foun- 
ders Company,  and  had  never  been  used  until 
set  for  this  book. 

The  bindingisaccordingto  the  specifications 
of  the  Society  of  Arts,  of  London.  The  sheets 
are  folded  with  special  care,  end  papers  are  made 
with  zigzag  and  sewn  on,  edges  are  uncut,  sig- 
natures are  sewn  with  unbleached  thread  over 
three  unbleached  linen  tapes,  back  left  nearly 
square,  boards  of  the  best  black  millboard,  cov- 
ers of  imported  marbled  paper,  and  the  backs 
of  art  vellum,  with  paper  label.  The  binding 
was  executed  by  the  regular  force  of  workmen 
and  in  the  regular  routine  of  commercial  work. 

The  composition  of  the  type  was  by  a  jour- 
neyman and  an  apprentice,  and  the  presswork 
was  done  on  a  half  super  royal  Colt's  Armory 

[  "7] 


press.  No  attempt  has  been  made  to  execute 
the  work  in  other  than  the  ordinary  manner, 
with  ordinary  appHances  and  ordinary  work- 
men. All  the  material  is  such  as  is  regularly 
carried  in  stock  by  dealers. 


[  ii8] 


THIS  EDITION  CONSISTS  OF  955  NUMBERED 
COPIES  PRINTED  AT  THE  IMPERIAL  PRESS 
CLEVELAND,  OHIO,  IN  NOVEMBER,  190J,  OF 
WHICH  THIS  IS  NUMBER       J    O-    ">• 


•*■      i  ^       ,        lilt 


